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A short poem about my wonderful girlfriend. |
The white wings of an ember untouched, flickering like a dim light. A voice calls out. Is it a whisper? Or is it a cry? Why does my heart ache, yet yearn for such radiance? Does it feel a need? Does it require a once before unknown sustenance? Her eyes illuminate; brighten the dark. A gaze so pure, yet invigorating, peaceful. Yet so seemingly dastardly. And at the same time tranquil. Could this be a meaning deeper than anything? Why call? The mind beckons to retreat, but the heart demands to press on. I need her. Her soft eyes gaze into mine. What does she see in me? What is it that I feel? Do I accept or reject? Rejection cannot be the answer. The blackened snow blankets the lush green of the land. There is but a gift, but is it really? It IS a gift, one more endearing than anything I have received. The gift of what many call love. What sort of devotion, yet in many forms, does it take? It's blissful. A dream rather a nightmare. My knees weaken as I gaze at her. Yet we are not standing near. She is a distant soul, connected only by passion. We speak spiritually, mentally. She sees me, a wanderer, who continues to search for an answer. She speaks a message, but what is it? I know not what to do. My heart is fleeting, running away with itself. Do I follow? I am unaware, yet I must know. I DO follow - follow her to the ends of the Earth. She is the guide to my mountain, the wind beneath my wing. As a passionate one, truth lies within the mystery. |