A Frozen Peace

The woods outside my door

Are begging me to plunge into their

Snow covered depths,

With fresh fallen powder 

To crunch beneath my boots. 

The still and frozen air

Is heavy with the silence

Of a thousand stifled thoughts.

My heart thuds quietly in my chest

And my breath fogs the space around me

Before being whisked away on the breeze. 

Fallen trees and hardy saplings 

Provide an obstacle course for my 

Hike among the bowing trees. 

Nature holds its breath

On the late December day,

Its furious frozen temper

Abates

And for a moment the world 

Is at peace

While I am left longing for the peace of your presence. 

Poetry Sunday: Christopher Marlowe

The Passionate Shepherd to His Love by Christopher Marlowe

Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That Valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

 

And we will sit upon the Rocks,
Seeing the Shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow Rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing Madrigals.

 

And I will make thee beds of Roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of Myrtle;

 

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty Lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;

 

A belt of straw and Ivy buds,
With Coral clasps and Amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me, and be my love.

 

The Shepherds’ Swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May-morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me, and be my love.

my soul cries out

The train pulls away from the station

taking my heart 

and leaving me standing on the platform

with silent tears streaming down my cheeks. 

Heavy feet carry me out of the station

and into the cool night air

where the stars and moon stare down 

as passive observers to my anguish.

My soul cried out in agony

begging to be returned 

to its beloved,

and every step that takes me further

away from you

slowly tears apart my chest

until the dam splits and is rendered useless.

I stand alone on the dark and empty commons

weeping and wishing for your warmth

and your hand in mine.

My soul eagerly awaits the day

it once again stands before you

full to the point of overflowing with love.

A Week of Stolen Kisses

A week of stolen kisses

and subtly intense glances with eyes flicking away at the last moment

was the most difficult challenge.

The SAT, my exams, interviews-

nothing could hold a candle to it.

Oh how I wanted to wrap you up in my arms

and kiss you until the stars came out.

I stole kisses where I could,

in the coolness of the basement

far from prying eyes,

beside the bonfire

with flickering flames to hide our faces,

on the balcony hidden in shadows

beneath the midnight moon.

Heart racing in the moments of near capture

and stifled giggles muffled in pillows.

I’m curled against you when I wake,

your arm pulled tight around my waist

intertwined with dreams and reality

and begging the sun to wait

just 15 minutes more.

Poetry Sunday: Kahlil Gibran

Reason and Passion XV by Khalil Gibran

And the priestess spoke again and said: “Speak to us of Reason and Passion.”

And he answered saying:

Your soul is oftentimes a battlefield, upon which your reason and your judgment wage war against passion and your appetite.

Would that I could be the peacemaker in your soul, that I might turn the discord and the rivalry of your elements into oneness and melody.

But how shall I, unless you yourselves be also the peacemakers, nay, the lovers of all your elements?

Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul.

If either your sails or our rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, or else be held at a standstill in mid-seas.

For reason, ruling alone, is a force confining; and passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction.

Therefore let your soul exalt your reason to the height of passion; that it may sing;

And let it direct your passion with reason, that your passion may live through its own daily resurrection, and like the phoenix rise above its own ashes.

I would have you consider your judgment and your appetite even as you would two loved guests in your house.

Surely you would not honour one guest above the other; for he who is more mindful of one loses the love and the faith of both.

Among the hills, when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars, sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadows – then let your heart say in silence, “God rests in reason.”

And when the storm comes, and the mighty wind shakes the forest, and thunder and lightning proclaim the majesty of the sky, – then let your heart say in awe, “God moves in passion.”

And since you are a breath In God’s sphere, and a leaf in God’s forest, you too should rest in reason and move in passion.