Soul’s Window

Eyes shut, sounds of others’ movements all around,

The wind howling through the shoddy casing of the window,

Like the gasping screams that dig and scratch at my throat,

Create the nightly aura that fills the darkest time.
 

My emotions run rampant, inner turmoil seeking a way OUT,

Dark roots, thick and mobile, writhe like snakes in my lower back,

Containing all nightmares, past regrets, and dark desires of life,

Flooding my body with a sinister purpose, evil and beautiful.
 

Temptation taunts the twisted soul, masochistic release in grasp,

And the trunk undulates with a malefic sensuality, lifting arms in joy,

Branches rustle, bare limbs brushing each other, before disappearing,

Diving back into the flesh whence they came, burying deep.
 

Satisfied moonlight sheds a sassy twilight on the scene,

Soft grays, stark blacks, bark you can almost touch, roughened from abuse,

A sheen of sweat trickles down my back, lending rain to the display,

As fear and lush heat quicken my breathing, dreading and anticipating.
 

The moonlight shifts, and there’s an ornate, iron-bound door in shadow,

A small key hidden among branches, suspiciously just out of reach to any passersby,

To unlock the door to all of my secrets, to plunge down to the depths of the roots,

The morbid shadow that is my soul, kept prisoner among the façade of bark.

 

Branches stretch, grow, reaching for salvation, reaching for light and air,

Blessed water from the sky, laughter and love, the fruits of life,

Cool, dark earth to build a foundation, celestial sights for guidance,

The wind sighs its satisfaction as the fluffy clouds gather and shed tears.

 

A finger brushes an amber liquid’s drop from my shadowed face in the trunk,

A huge shudder rocks the tree, wallowing in despondency, eyes close, jaw goes slack,

Ephemeral beauty shines down, caressing and easing tension, dreamland slides close,

Strength to stand, lift chin and branches, bury deep into rocky soil, and reach for salvation.

   Sometimes the brightest light comes from the darkest of places.

Dance of the Seasons

Stars twinkle dimly in the haze,

Slowly losing their shine in angst

Of the love lost in your life

As the ground grows cold in oncoming winter.

The vibrant colors of the harvest season,

Shining gold leaves float gently to earth,

Bright red vines trailing like thick hair

Through the dying green of summer.

A brisk breeze snaps the twigs’ tenuous hold

On the shriveling, dusky brown tendrils,

Sending twisting shadows swirling over your pale face,

Thin lips trembling as they hold back angry sobs.

As the last verdant leaf falls to the frosty ground

It is the last weight on your burdened back

And your knees crack to kneel unwillingly

To the life that was never foretold in prophecy.

Your monumental strength glides slowly,

Shrugging past the proffered hands

To lay in supplication at your weary feet

As your heavy head bows to unmerciful Fate.

Seasons turn, seasons change,

Nothing lasts forever though it may seem so

Though morbidity creeps like a shadow,

Danger in its every move through your soul.

Misery loves company, and laughter abounds,

Even in the darkest of shadows,

For there is balance in all things

And the yin yang is incomplete without night.

Lay your head in my lap, mon cheri,

Let my fingers caress your fiery hair

And soothe all morbid anxieties as best I can,

Feel my love heal your aching heart.

Winter is almost over, Spring is around the bend,

Where new joys are barely peeking through

Their rich, brown wombs and searching for sunlight,

Beginnings and endings are coming to fruition.