Friday, April 25, 2014

An Honesty in Blue

a thing of beauty
passes between hearts
a known moment
intangible, unexplained
but explored
and given
as a piercing or a softness

I dreamt of a man growing clouds from plant pots, I called one Love and the other War, I dreamt I fell from a fun ride and couldn't get back on, losing all my belongings forever, I dreamt jasmine was growing in my bedroom, a flowering at the end of my bed before a wide window

you and I sat together
it was enough
the kiss, our bodies
an honesty in blue
of night and stars and eclipse
of bright day
your face in the light

your beautiful face

I looked again at the first verse and knew I was struggling to say what my heart remembers, I remember a moment, I remember more, one uncaptured timeline, one which is a warmth in my chest, an opiated sensation in my body, a closing of my eyes to a serenity with a brightness behind

this poem could go on

and I would never be able to say what I want

for how can one explain a gloriousness that was once held in the hand

I did not ask 'Who are you?' for I chose to watch how you leaned towards me, how you smiled and the depth of your eyes. I chose to feel your skin next to mine, the trace of your hand, your lips. I chose to listen to your heart and then to your words and try to see what lay between. I wished for your presence as the Sun rises or the flower opens; gifts that come freely without bidding; something true to know.

And yet it seems that one never knows.

And the truth changes.

And the depth of one's eyes can be a cruel reflection.

I dreamt of a man growing clouds from plant pots, I called one Love and the other War.


  1. Captivating! Bravo, Linda! This is amazingly beautiful!

  2. wow Linda , 'a man growing clouds from plant pots' is an astounding concept, such beautiful words, you have made me quiver and feel all emotional, so exceptional xx

    1. Thanks, Lisa! Your comments mean a lot! That segment about the clouds was actually from a dream; I saw a man growing clouds from plant pots and the rest of that paragraph contains the other images/impressions of the dream. The rest of the poem though is not from the dream - just the one paragraph.