~ A Sad Pining ~
 

Playing ripples upon these waves,

The cadence of the deep flow within-

My gaze as it gently travels-

 Over the harsh lines to rest,

Upon stoic features,

Which I had not fathomed to exist.

 

My hands caress the deep glow,

Of the ocean rivers way below,

In the sea of beauties distant,

Touching upon the fragile meanings-

 

Those that I cannot speak of, which are-

Traits of hands now weathered,

And yet somehow move on-

To grace the ripple of my thoughts,

As I glance toward the calm moon-

Luminescent and bright,

Churns me with a kiss, butter soft,

Until I play with the water-crests,

Seeking my own gaze as my

Eyes look to the thunder’s roll,

The roar of the fluid rush-

Waves upon waves crashing-

While my hands caress turbulence,

Detached from my fragility,

Casting the moonlight sheaths to

glance upon my face once more,

And my untrammeled beauty-

That had lived behind it.

Along on this distant shore I wait,

Seeking for the message in this troubled way,

Beneath the light of the wanton moon

that mocks my plight, as I rest,

And I wait to be told that I need,

More than my shadow upon a dark lake,

I wait for love and I transgress-

To imagined paradise, feeling,

Those dreams I had once lived, but lost-

Over this turbulent road I should not take,

To a entity harsh, odistant and hedonic,

Until I become frail and I pine,

Until in soft, deep desire,

Alone-

Seeking something better than what I had.

I wait for naught,

As I am trespassing wide,

On a beauty in unsung praise,

Prevaricating on the edge,

Of what might never, I’d guess, permit my soul . . .

To a better land.