Poetry rush

Poetry rush
-Of madness

Oh how long shall this clinging feeling in me reside
With each whisper of wind I crave a touch
For I know when with a kiss we touch I will die

Hither I wallow in solace of solitude
I am a romance without passion
What I need- Nay what obsesses me is yet to appear

Each year, moment, second and breath feels like stiffness
A cold stab of eternity trapped in a hapless moment of truth
Still I do not yet become the falling leaf of an autumn blooming

What I feel is not yet loneliness but expectation
I am in full bloom but still not in full color
I realize with a tragic backward glance it is not my body that creates-
But the thought that floats like a constant stream within

It’s not an excuse or reason that reside within me but a truth
And truths as I know them cannot be touched, cannot be unravelled
Love is not an emotion it is so much simpler

Love is action,
The emotion we actually feel during these unsteady eclipses of time is happiness
Can a leaf not yet ripe to kiss the wind survive the winter high up in the tree?
The leaf must chose it’s lover, either the tree or the wind

It’s hard to love a tree that refuses to yield to touch in harsh stiffness
But it’s even harder to love the wind, ever so constant in it’s changefulness
Their caresses of tenderness will forever be a fleeting feeling-
The indifferent yet warm sun on my cheek before it hides behind clouds

Every wave hitting the shore beyond me is a ticking of time
A mad rush of impatience waiting to laugh
Courage needed to venture into the unknown cannot be found in this empty abyss
There or here are only people not waiting to laugh, impatient, rushed and mad