The Wind – Fellowship of the wind –

“It’s the questions we can’t answer that teach us the most. They teach us how to think. If you give a man an answer, all he gains is a little fact. But give him a question and he’ll look for his own answers.”

 

I could feel the strength of the wind.
Fresh, dark, mystical wind.
On the shadowed side of the steep mountains,
clouds hovering, the wind teasing,
making smoke tails.
Strange feeling, exhilarating yet,
peaceful, almost entrancing,
the wind in my hair.
Smells, fresh, moist, sounds of a tree,
a falling comrade in the green forest,
all carried by the wind.
How is it that I fit in this mystery?
How is it I’m taken by this wind?
Like a seed carried away from my past,
by an ever present but constantly changing wind,
Dropping me pleasantly down
to finish my here and now.
Brother wind and I take flight.



Also published in Broowaha
First published in Opinions Of Eye
10022011

Combined History – Her reflections on the past.

“The moment there is suspicion about a person’s motives, everything he does becomes tainted.” Mahatma Gandhi
bing

The following is an entry from one of my favorite bloggers, Descending Ascension. She presents a raw and uncensored woman’s point of view of a relationship. My favorite line: “For me the thread is very short, but of darker tint. The tint isn’t determined by experience but sentiment and things which taint.” Enjoy…


History of love.

What is love?
Scratch that.
That’s too broad and too narrow to cover right now,
So then,
Let’s talk history.
Your history and mine.
When we decided to be together, our history melted into one intangible net of experience.
Yours and mine and ours.

All those girls, those women, they are a part of me too. I begin to know them in intimate ways, even if they are in the past.
I’m only sorry to say your thread of past is longer than mine.
More women, more girls.
For me the thread is very short,
But of darker tint.
The tint isn’t determined by experience but sentiment and things which taint.
I wear your history wound 5 times around my wrist, while you wear mine upon your pinky.
I ask you questions, you reluctantly answer.
You say nothing, and ask little of me.
Yet you begin to have doubts, and become confused with the physical nature of our intimacy.
I know my questions are biting.
I know my remarks are heart breaking.
Does it break your heart that so shyly I ask to know the truth?
Is your soul pulled at whenever I am patient with your flaws and when I accept them? 
When I let them sting on my cuts, but still love you?
Does it make you love me more?
Am I a consolation prize, second best to your first?
To the special one in your heart?
So it must be, that she too holds a place in my heart, because, remember, your history is also mine.
I wear her around my shoulders while you wrestle with mine.
My history.
My unrequited love.
Is this my patience or unwitting masochism in which I subject myself to heart break and pain so that I don’t feel it by chance or at the hands of vicious lovers?
We seem to have a very odd relationship.
I can never take her away, nor can I ever replace her, just like you will never be him.
I guess the questions we should be asking ourselves are “If we could, would we?”
“If they did, would we?”
Would you take her?
Would I go to him?
Only then can we define ourselves.
What we are.
Yes or no.
Maybe you’ll know my answer someday.
Maybe never.
Just as I will know yours.
-R.S.L.S

Published in her blog: DescendingAscension

Combined History – Her reflections on the past.

“The moment there is suspicion about a person’s motives, everything he does becomes tainted.” Mahatma Gandhi
bing

The following is an entry from one of my favorite bloggers, Descending Ascension. She presents a raw and uncensored woman’s point of view of a relationship. My favorite line: “For me the thread is very short, but of darker tint. The tint isn’t determined by experience but sentiment and things which taint.” Enjoy…


History of love.

What is love?
Scratch that.
That’s too broad and too narrow to cover right now,
So then,
Let’s talk history.
Your history and mine.
When we decided to be together, our history melted into one intangible net of experience.
Yours and mine and ours.

All those girls, those women, they are a part of me too. I begin to know them in intimate ways, even if they are in the past.
I’m only sorry to say your thread of past is longer than mine.
More women, more girls.
For me the thread is very short,
But of darker tint.
The tint isn’t determined by experience but sentiment and things which taint.
I wear your history wound 5 times around my wrist, while you wear mine upon your pinky.
I ask you questions, you reluctantly answer.
You say nothing, and ask little of me.
Yet you begin to have doubts, and become confused with the physical nature of our intimacy.
I know my questions are biting.
I know my remarks are heart breaking.
Does it break your heart that so shyly I ask to know the truth?
Is your soul pulled at whenever I am patient with your flaws and when I accept them? 
When I let them sting on my cuts, but still love you?
Does it make you love me more?
Am I a consolation prize, second best to your first?
To the special one in your heart?
So it must be, that she too holds a place in my heart, because, remember, your history is also mine.
I wear her around my shoulders while you wrestle with mine.
My history.
My unrequited love.
Is this my patience or unwitting masochism in which I subject myself to heart break and pain so that I don’t feel it by chance or at the hands of vicious lovers?
We seem to have a very odd relationship.
I can never take her away, nor can I ever replace her, just like you will never be him.
I guess the questions we should be asking ourselves are “If we could, would we?”
“If they did, would we?”
Would you take her?
Would I go to him?
Only then can we define ourselves.
What we are.
Yes or no.
Maybe you’ll know my answer someday.
Maybe never.
Just as I will know yours.
-R.S.L.S

Published in her blog: DescendingAscension