A stitch at a time

 

My love knows not

the oceans,

nor the continents

that divide.

It sees no void too great

or space too vast

for hearts to collide.

My love witnesses not

The ticking of the clock

or the aching chasms of time.

It only knows the beat

that lives

in this heart of mine.

 

My love sees no borders,

nor hillsides too high to climb,

it doesn’t appreciate the ice

as it creeps in glacial tides

across mountains that

have stood

through storms and floods

for aeons.

A testament to time.

It only sees the heart that races

and all the aching feelings inside,

when two that should be one

are not on the same pathway

whilst their stars are so aligned.

 

My love isn’t bound by

distance, it sees

everything across

the vastness of this

exhilarating existence

unwound 

like threads of time,

linking hands, across

the grand cosmic sands,

and it holds it all close.

Pulling those threads,

feeling the intertwined

storylines

of the weaving strands

as they sew themselves

into this cosmic tapestry.

A stich at a time.

Or at the way two

can yearn for so much,

yet learn to weave away

from that which is divined.

Mental sludge

 

If I ask the sky

for answers,

will she reply?

Will she whisper gently

a word in the breeze,

or instead let me

sink to my knees?

Coated in my own

mental sludge.

Manifesting

what life could be

holding in store

for me, if I could

only find

the right pathway,

or do my answers lie

in a falsehood,

telling me untruths

disguised as

a way onward,

when

in truth, I’m only

circling the same

stretch of mud.

I walk in this

Wood-scented

dampening dream,

and I think.

maybe answers

are not what I need,

but better questions.

One note at a time

 

I’ll share

my heart

with the soul

that

smiles

with me,

and I’ll worship

the one

whose heart is a wave

on the open sea.

I’ll like the stories

they share easily,

and I’ll hold them tightly

against the ones

that hurt them so deeply.

 

I’ll hold a place

for the one

whose heart is a drum, 

whose beats

are full of hope

in the way the world

as it stands

can one day

be redone.

 

For we

are song

flowing through

the

atoms

one single note

at a time,

and I will hold that note

as it pieces the night,

shattering every

particle of hate

into dust

that the

wind can

then scatter,

like anti-matter

to the hurt,

causing it

to disintegrate

into snowflake

hearts.

 

I'll hold my

heart wide open

like a doorway,

where I will take

the joy and the hope

and I’ll store it safely,

to be able to pour

twice as much back

into the world

all around me.