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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required This is the stuff some hearts are made of. Anguish. Elation. Say it once again! Just for the sake of hearing a feeling's name, and the long drawn out sigh of sounds echoing out of breath, out of breath, out of anguish, elation, passion and pain. Passion! Pain! These brutal playmates wrestle to escape,to grip together, all the being that I am. Unravelled, they twist and toss, in truth and pretense, soft tender kisses, sharp sword words at all the human I think I am. Sometimes, many times, I long to still this writhing combustion of light and dark that gives and takes so much,so little... With one well-aimed arrow shoot straight and true through a struggling heart, grapelling with reasons. Perhaps then,peace would catch me unaware- a quietening,not a quickening pulse, still keeping me in touch with emotion's animation. Softly now,softly now, Let me like a baby soothed by sensitive hands,be caressed by whisper wind, and water's just warm weight. let dusk's lazing colour-smile bathe my eyes with day's horizon goodbye. For all I am is knowing,feeling, touch, taste and sight,smell and hearing. If I brush a leaf in passing, touch is returned, my self knows it. Nature's texture, shapes and fragrance impress their careful, thoughtful meanings seductive as eastern perfume notes on all the person I feel I am. And if I ease myself down,downwards till I'm found in water's pooled blue- feel this liquid sky hug me so smooth,so close in a nearly weightless embrace- I lie suspended, eyes aimed skyward watching swallows pleasure float on their own distant currents sweeping them to heavenly heights. I know their pleasure, for my pleasure is to move my arms like gentle oars, feel finger currents slipstream past, wet streamers adrift in my wake. Diving deep, bubble music dances, playing with my lips and ears as hot held breath breaks out,escapes, and water's muted laughter ripples around my arms and throat. So,ecstasy, lift me sky high from drunken sadness and its old salt taste. Fold away angry murmurs-nail them in an attic! Throw grief to summer's wind, let leaving swallows carry worn out sighs to warmer climes, and leave them there to melt under a healing sun, a brighter, bluer sky-their whirlwind journey done. Anguish.Elation.Passion.Pain. Say it once again! Just for the sake of feeling, remembering a feeling's name-sighing,sighing for the sake of exhaling the echo of dying pain. So this is the stuff some hearts are made of- Passion and Pain! Say it once again! 22/8/20
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