Remember This

When a sadness rises up before your eyes
that seems much deeper than the deepest abyss
yet revealed - remember this - the love that
we once shared in those sensations of reality itself -
and feel again the greatest loss of all,
as it reveals your heartfelt cries into the night.
For we were one, in ways that no one else
might ever hope to come to be; yet even this
you offered up to gods that care for no more
than for mere sacrifice of this sacred love
of life we each must live as one reality.

I remember times when we would dance,
as only lovers do, just because a certain
song would choose to fill the airwaves
with its eccentricity of electricity again.
And softly, you would sing into my ear,
the beauty of the love of its expression
(even though I wonder now, just how
it was that you could give up even this);
as moment by moment we grew closer still,
in flesh and mind and spirit's will.

There are so many things I need to say to you
and you alone; and yet in seeking,
now I find that you are never to be found,
for you have chosen to conceal your heart
from everyone again (even I). Yet still
this world spins around, and still I know
this feel of love as real, melting once again
the crudeness of the ice you chose to freeze
into a picture's frame of used to be.
While the pain of your departure
has been fading as this linear sense
of time goes on and on, even as it chooses
to resurface yet again in ways
I simply can't explain.

Yet now, within a sense of newfound
letting go and setting free, this feel
of love returns in ways that are much more
than any memory. It is as if the mystery
of all creation, extends its energy again
through all I am. Then comes another span
of utter misery, as tears are spent,
and threads are rent, that simply cannot
keep a space or place in me (not anymore).

Life goes on, and friends both old and new
arise just when I really need them to. They
pull me up and help me past each place of
pain that seemed so everlasting; reminding
me that I am still as lovable as in those times
you loved me true - and even more than
that - for still, this poetry (unasked) keeps
spilling from these fingertips (even though
at times in blinded symmetry),
through tear-filled eyes that can't quite
read the words they etch right here.

And yet through all of this, a sense
of partial sanity returns somewhere, somehow
within the chaos that you left me feeling; as
more and more I find these points of pure and
utter healing. (Although I must confess, that
this time, every time before is riding high
upon a building wave, with I just one
small drop, hanging on for all this life
and love may e'er be worth in its eternity.)

Swiftly did I lose all sense of our togetherness,
once you made your moves and walked away;
yet longingly I reached (for too long?) into
memories of used to be, that simply cannot
come to be again. And when you left, somehow
you left your pain and loneliness right here,
inside of me. I know though, that the feelings
of this empathy are never lasting; and so I hang,
I hung, I seek yet still - the truth of love
as it presents itself to me, within a vibrant,
living energy that ever is unaltered
by mere shape or form
or time that seems forlorn.

At last, I find again the means
to swing upon the stars; remembering
much more than ever you believed that
I had ever been. And still I am composed of
every momentary movement of pure energy
that I alone invoke along this way to yet another
opening of this one magic moment -
that must again amend all sense of past.
And I realize again, that I am more than I had
ever dared to think myself to be before.

I've found the games of life are often rigged
(and rarely towards the innocence that
loving hearts evolve). For long and long,
I chose to just ignore those games that
never offered more than win or lose,
for somewhere deep inside I knew
a sense that must transcend the very
gist of opposition.

Yet now another door is opening,
within a flowing indigo exposure,
amending yet again the current
ordering of time and space (and yes,
this consciousness that seeks again
through me, one true expression that must
open more of this into reality, within
so many salient moments of a touch
that lives beyond and yet within all that
we learned should be reality of flesh).

Yet still I find that games of childhood
still lie within all hearts and here on high,
where spirit ever seeks to speak its entrance
into mortal realms of life, and here we find again
that sense of innocence within all loving hearts.
For tonight, the sun set gently through the trees,
sending hues of its magnificence to blend
within a variation of so many hues, uniting
silently into the blues of day-lit skies above;
arousing yet more memories of healing to
join again this stream of loving unity abounding.

And now I see that games themselves could
never be to blame for all the terror that a cult
(bent on no more than just a selfish power outage),
sought and yet still seeks to bring about
in tactics that make fear seem all that we can feel.
For I remember once again, those childhood
games where laughter rang itself
into the atmosphere. And I know this earth
has never rearranged the sense of those pure moments
of its growing happiness; for still the children
laugh and play, when unencumbered by the many
ways their parents say it ought to be.
And every game we think we've come to know
was once created in a state of chaos,
come to be in this pure state of
innocence sublime, ever unfolding.

Now I find that I must reach again,
(I must, else trust in life itself is severed)
beyond those chains of your imprisonment,
and fly again into these skies of indigo,
for still they call my spirit
to ascend to heights divinely deep,
and speak these timeless words to you
and all who care to listen in.
For this imagining takes all I am, as I ascend
into those magic realms where childhood dreams
become the truth of each experience we shared.
How is it that you've come to trust
the greediness of power's lust, even more
than those sweet memories of life lived
in a flowing stream so full of childlike glee?

How long (too long) will you agree to live
within mere fantasies created by the few...?
Who claim that minutes of mere hours
(abiding still in blind beliefs in linearity;
that never come to know the sphere-like
movement of this whole that every touch
of love brings into clarity of being),
are really all that this reality can mean -
reducing lives to just one chance
of this love of life we have been born
to live forever.

So now, my erstwhile love, I ask you only this
(in retrospect): that when a sadness rises up
before your inner eye, seemingly much deeper
than the deepest abyss yet revealed -
remember this, the love that we once lived
and shared in these sensations of our cells
of living flesh and thus of all reality itself -
and feel again the greatest feeling
ever brought to being, even as it must reveal
your heartfelt cries into another night that
seems so all alone.

For we were one, in ways that no one else
might ever hope to come to bring into this being;
yet this you offered up to gods that care
for no more than mere sacrifice of this,
the sacred life we each must live - as one
reality of love's infinity, still singing love songs
through these realms that infinitely must
surrender - opening again, our hearts to feel
this ecstasy, that only this one love
of life, in innocence, reveals...

? Michaelette ?

8/5/2001
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...