Autumn Memories and Magical Threads

Along the Rhine – October 2012

The magic continues
The spinner weaves a fragile thread
Taken to tangles and knots
Requiring a gentle patient touch.

We are connected by a magical thread.
Sometimes the filament frays –
when confusion clouds the perception of action or inaction.
Tenuous attachments attract uncertainty.

Fantasy, illusion, dreams – all is good –
Reality is often hard pressed to keep pace with the mind’s alternative universe.
Especially when that universe is shared
with the embodiment of remembered yearning.

A vivid memory of crisp breezes carrying wispy scent of hearth and embers.
Dusk falling rapidly as I briskly walked the few blocks home –
dodging puddles and reveling – charging through piles of crunchy maple leaves
randomly adorning the sidewalk.

Utter joy with the sensory symphony –
for the moment tenuously overriding
the swell of angst rising from my depths.
A nameless yearning. Strong sense of something missing.

Feeling such a longing to reach out and touch
the someone who was striving to do the same from parts unknown.
Continuing my walk home and
turning my thoughts to the evening’s plan.

Yet, down deep inside knowing that the longing would continue,
the vague sense of disquiet would go unappeased.
Until the shadows took on form emerging from the hidden realm
and the wonder of recognition became reality.

Consume Me

This was first published here about four months ago.

Consume me

Like the flames lick the tossed sticks of wood in the glowing corner of the darkened room.

Piece by piece I will become a part of you –

fueling you – taunting you – wanting you – wanting you.

Take me apart, put me back together,

infuse my soul with laughter

with tears

with love

with fear.  

with hope

with dreams .

The more I am renewed

the more I will disappear in you. 

All my yearnings point me to you –

all my longings –

my entire being aches to hold you in me and be held.

Heal me

Every kiss

each stroke

will bring life and love and wholeness….

Original poetry by The Spirit of the Goddess Minerva

The Fourth of Anytime

Contemplating the fourth of anytime

in that empty room

somewhere between here and there

ready and waiting

as I am for you

hungering for your touch

longing to feel your body

pressing, molding to mine

 

Keenly sensing your warmth

Your strength – innate power

Long known inner signposts

guide our lips , our fingers

skimming, probing,

caressing, demanding,

plunging, drowning

finding, losing.

 

Focusing, forgetting

Our world distilled as trembling sensation

Building,  seeking the limits

Bursting through imaginary fences

Carrying us to new realms

Clinging, crying out

Destiny realized

In this lifetime.