Esoteric Waters

I would pull strands of clouds
From fading blue skies
And with, most likely
Improper elocution.
Attempt to articulate a fraction
Of the essence, of all I have ever felt
For you, intend to express where
Our conjoined paths might have wandered
Just beneath the sun, in stranded words
Slowly, painfully drawn upon the ethereal
Embrace of inevitability, assaulted
By atmospheric winds, rendered meaningless
Pulled apart by the same endemic process
That always besieged my need for sleep,
My struggle to achieve inner peace
A contemptible, fragile facade
Devastated by elusive moments
That slip away as life’s blood
In drops of days and ever
Quickening rivers
Of years

Breaking upon rocks
And unforgiving shores
Mourning horizons briefly lost
On a canvass of cascading crimson
Orange smoldering summer sunsets
Momentary ripples of inspiration
Splashed across beautiful thoughts of destiny,
Loves eternal broken mirror glimpses
Of fractured apparitions vanishing
Into a refracted crystalline surface
In the dying light, brilliantly betraying
A complete lack of serenity, imposing
Tranquility on eyes mesmerized by the wind
Shattered rapture of a veneer lost in chaos,
Sparkling towards night tides, haunted
By the baritone whisper of waves
Yearning for peace in reflections
Drowning in clarity, fully
Realized in stillness
And denied
By their very existence

Within a world of wonders
Hidden Under prismatic skies and preoccupation
With yesterdays regrets and futures unknown;
Obscured by charcoal sketched, passion stirring
Storm fronts, heralding fated full moons
Riding fraying clouds through countless stars,
Stirring constantly reforming dreams
Into the promise of contacting tomorrow
Inured with an awareness so acute
You couldn’t possibly let it slip away…
Without some small significance;
Some reasons for a half smile and sufficient color
To warm the solitude of black nights
And muted dawns,
Painting gray as a depth of emotion
Riding portentous skies
Not a state of mind in which to dwell
As hours of apprehension
Devour days
Of possibility…

…And precious minutes of sunlight
Sustain forlorn souls raggedly flagging
In the last reaping winds of death shrouded winter’s
Desire for despair, feeding off all those unable to taste
The fragrant edges of spring’s resurrecting colors
Animated yet teasingly tangential, waiting to be
Balanced on the sword point of mornings
To be, wielded as substantial rainbows  
Arcing through the iron of yesterdays
Held in mind only by a need to forget
Why they were so dark and cold…
Let the warm rain ripple my surface
So I will shine echoes of moonlight
Through the mirror of my dreams
Across the decorative decay
Of my frozen thoughts
Of you.  

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