Letters to Dandelion (7 page)

feel
warm and breathe as

I hug
myself while trying

to
convince me, that I

matter -
at least to me.

And I have
a place in life.

Because,
when I spread

out my
wings, I never

appear
grand. I never

seem to
be able to win

the
hand,  of who I love

at any
given time.

Closed
up in my little

home,
it's raining, but

I
wouldn't know. Cause

each
feather, one set on

top of
the other, allows

the rain
to run over and

so, all
I hear, are the

small
pats of water.

drizzling
on my head .

This is
what it's like.

I only
feel good around

me. I
only feel calm

when I
create it and I

only can
provide my

own
surety and peace.

Folded
up, inside these
wings is home.

Through
there's

love,
room and safety

for four
precious more.

Love
me freely,

Really
…

isn’t
that the best way?

Ideally
speaking, I’m always hoping

for
you to come to the day, when

that’s
a reality, to make me happy.

We’ve
talked and both agree,

happiness
is temporary and

comes
from within.

So
with so much practicality, between

us
both, why can’t your heart I seem to win?

I’m
not a trickster,

or
a talker, or a player,

I’m
not a loose cannon,

though
you say I am 
J

I’m
just deeply in love

with
you.

I’m
far from perfect, I struggle

daily
and only have my skin to

offer.
Not much I guess, in a

world
glittering with gold and

duress,
that walks hand in hand

like
life and death.

Time.
Time, travels by and it

makes
me sigh, because I

realize,
that this is time I

could
have with you.

You
playing with my face,

you
singing your funny songs,

me
watching you dance,

me
loving you all night long.

Wishes
and hopes, erode,

but
not these.

Youth
ages, nothing lasts forever,
but my words I water like plants

to
bloom in my heart for you.

I
reach for peace and love,

connectedness,
togetherness.

Joy,
discovery, placidity,

longevity,
pleasure beyond

measure
with you –

I
can only put these words out there

and
show you I care,
know you feel something for me

and
hope like a stay of execution

that
I will see you again.

I
love you

And
with my trust,

And
with my sincerity,

all
I can do, is ask you,

to
consider loving me – freely.

I Hold her forever
…

If
we could both take a moment of time,

so
I could wrap my arms around you,

press
you close to my heart, that’s fine.

Feel
your hands on my shoulders,

your
breath express against my chest,

My
legs pressed deeply into your contours,

so
I can identify the softness of just your skin,

I
would never forget our statue,

never
erase this, our moment;

I
hold her forever.

Whether
it be an actual physicality,

or
a memory, that energy, of having

my
heart flow into you and yours

reciprocate
into mine, identifies a

moment
of time in when:

It
felt so right,

and
it became universally true,

those
seconds were created for only

me
and you, to come undeniably together.
So that all the bombs, bullets or armies of

the
past, present and the future, could never
separate us, or take that away.

In
those few moments, when I had

recorded
your smile, twisted the sheets

in
ecstatic release, or screamed your name

when
I came.

I
found you, in the open sea of existence.

It
had to count for something, for from

nothing,
could anything come so great?

And
all I know, is that in those fleeting

seconds
of time, I truly lived, even if I

am
now dead – oh reader, I can attest

that I hold her forever.

The
Dandelion

grows,
from where, no one knows,

as
it comes, then goes, on an often

long
and lonely journey.

This
flower, also a weed, tumbles

as
it seeds, in the winds of time

and
chance, while avoiding romance.

Upon
happenstance of a field of

poppy-whites,
the billowy joy that

they
can bring to your eyes, and

a
smile curves when you realize,

that
they are more beautiful than

most
flowers in the spring.

A
Dandelion clings, to your clothes

and
they separate when the autumn

wind
blows, to spread their magic in

populace
for a new crop to bloom.

They
assemble in mass fashion,

a
sort of family unification and

prove
their dedication so often to
those who know them by the
resiliency that they show.

So
hard to be rid of these dainty

little
iron-willed flowers, so hard
to not admire, but I’ve never seen
a garden desired, as they are the
true odd-ball of all flora.

And
I love her.

The
real Dandelion. 

I
completely adore her.

The
human Dandelion.

As
I often wake to find, she is

somewhere
and never near, yet

my
memories and thoughts of

her,
always remain the same.

The Tornado

Touches down and uproots trees,

destroys homes, flips over cars

like they were light as foil.

Nothing can measure its power.

No one can predict their arrival.

As they have often been called,

“The fingers of God.”

Their power is so immense and
yet so similar to the deep feelings
 of love that I have for you.

It came when least I knew,

and it cleared so much of

a wide path to allow my

heart to start.

It makes me feel as though I can

do anything with you by my side.

And nothing would stand in my
way, to love you,

to protect you,

to understand you,

to honor you.

My love moves for you to keep

things original.

My love spins for you, to make

sure you are cared for in every way.

My love is a force for you that

even and especially, I, don’t understand.

But I know it’s there.

A Tornado is air, and pressure, and

the forces of nature way beyond our

control.

And so is how I feel, deeply about you.

I love you.

When I see you, my heart spins,

my mind stretches and my happiness

flies.

When I touch you, all my senses come

alive.

When I kiss you, I go to another

world.

But when I make love to you, I almost

near explode. (this you know.)

Many people fear and hate Tornados.

To me, they’re a strange, yet wonderful thing.

Uncertainty

The Chasm

From one side I can see the most beautiful woman ever, to
me.

As far away as she is, everything there is to love about her
I can see.

I can hear the soothing in her voice and match it to my
scars.

I can watch her hands as she does simple tasks and envision
them

touching me, caressing my back, holding my hand, reaching
out

to me to offer her warmth in a body length embrace.

I can feel her whisper soft hair, brush against my face and
smell

the buoyant fragrance of what makes her so alluring.

I can see the twinkle in her eyes as she seeks meaning
inside my own.

I can feel the wisps of her breath against my nose in
anticipation of

kissing her.

I can see the glisten of saliva on her lips, the limp
preparation of her

tongue.

I can skim the knots of her vertebrae as I glide my fingers
down her back,

The softness of her skin, the press of her things against my
own.

The awkwardness of turning my head, the electricity of our
first kiss.

And then, from the other side, she walks away.

The reach …

Fell short,

as I lay on the beach,

catching my tan,

under the pecan sun.

It used to be fun,

as the world turns,

and my thoughts

would run,