Startling Soul

Left-handedly, he moved against
great streams of mass-induced insanity,
always in an upward course and bent,
yet as he moved in spirals to the the left
he felt himself askew from all the others,
but still he risked all that he was
to once achieve the startling
discovery of soul.

Yet empty air now greets his cheek,
once kissed in tenderness;
for he chose the right-hand path
of mind evolving, and lives again
in its imprisonment  -  sighing as
the stages ever move back through
the places that need new and
vibrant images arising.
For he chose to drive again
in and out of walls
that permeate protection.

Straining yet to have and hold
deep down inside - a feel, a sense
that lives beyond illusionary sanity;
to find he never really lived
or breathed at all, beyond a base desire
killingly illuminating fire
into life and love's oblivion again.

When unannounced,
she rose to speak in tongues
(just where the closure of all opening begins)
and lightly, brightly, beads of moisture
danced upon the edge of all demise;
like sparks of darkness playing base
upon the silken threads of light repeating
endlessly within the rarely spoken
femininity of soul.

And he was left to try to understand
the great demands of life in form,
reaching now to be reborn to bliss;
but empty air now greets his cheek
once kissed in tenderness;
as he sinks into a deep regression,
knowing he may never rise again.

Still knowing the need, yet unwilling to move;
or to face the strain and rage and want;
that might fuel the warmth of loving ways -
when future caught the wave his will created
and bent in a refraction just to reach,
the startling reflection
that his soul had come to be . . .

What would he do now...?
What would he be...?
Now that she had come
into his life in time
to stay . . .


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