Ode to Love

Everything has changed Though nothing remains the same Love is, as always Is The Word aware All that lies within, between Yellow and purple? For how could love be A constant without anchor How could anything? I claim ignorance Of tether's source, to be sure Foundationally I am a man, true But would other claims be false Breathed from dust formed lips? Shall we weigh anchor Bringing with us nothing but Bright eyes and ship(w)right? Shall we weight tables Swapping coin, tales, and glances Ending up ahead? Love is in nothing Void, abyss, light, air, water Seeded from the start

"I'll speak for myself." Did you think you were immune Oh painkilling edge? When you overflow One drop UNACCEPTABLE The tears burn like hell Let's give them a laugh Silver like pencil graphite Soul shorn|e with each stroke Sacrifice, Mercy The punchline left off the page Comedy Triumphs I wrote off the storm Wading through the quippish tide So I'd chance to speak I ran with goblet Still without one drop falling Or's that Deja Vu..? To stand at your throne (Though more like blind eye's proxy) And rattle this cage IT is all we (own/have/share) One direction, no false steps For terror(s) remain(s)

Word to thought to resonant echo... I feel it these several years later. Resonant echo to thought to word to airwave, they return from elsewhere. So many ways to break a mirror So many methods to count a year So many ways to perk an ear Yet perhaps just one to prevent any tear So tapestry is threaded by hand most fair That one might coin "Love is in the air" So all will see that joining the right pair Is the only way to prevent any tear

Christmas lights glisten A starry night seen and heard Strung up through the halls As notes played loudly Translated into color All sung at 16 Love is in the air 'Twixt chemical and airwave Shiny dissonance Mixed with resonance Like each room lending a hand All on the same page The keys have been taught To those with more knack for them The wheel taken (up) All I do is sing Words and tone a little off But heart shines the same Until green and red Shift to an orange and black hue I know Hope is near The colors might change But Halloween and/or Christmas Hearts beat the same way

If two trees grow on opposite sides of a river, how might they connect? So the hopeful spirit walked in comfort all her days, beneath and between the olive trees, wondering at their shade. Until she came to a river. So the wanderer meandered the realm, all of Creation his playground, unaware two bulls guarded him, one ahead and one behind. Until he came to a river. Looking across they marveled at each other, so foreign, yet so familiar. It took seconds; the game was over, the game neither of them knew they played. Love was in the air. The river held, the river raged, as the realm swept itself up, knowing time was short. The wanderer had already taken off his coat, stretching for a swim. The remaining details of this instance are many and varied, many of which can be seen in the halls of this blog, but, if anything, may the single tent occupied only serve to vault the rest.

I finish listening to the song at my place, "Trees" still on my mind. My thoughts go freeform, flowing without resistance, back to my school days when this world's potential felt so much more tangible and unknown all at once. I hear her ask "what did you think of the song?" and my mind sparks to reconcile these differences I am suddenly aware of. I am no longer strictly at my place, but I am at my place and the room from my dream, and The Phoenix's room all at once. Where my mom once sat The Phoenix sits instead, and instead of making a positive remark on another woman's song, the woman sitting here now asks what I thought of her own. "I really enjoyed it, somehow so familiar, although I cannot recall where precisely I had heard it from before. To be honest, from my perspective, it may have been one of those memories which was made now, but embedded itself into my past; still, I would not mind if that is what it had done." She gives me a famili...

In approaching love, where does one begin? Beats measured not by clock but by season On any given note one's heart claimed in The right pair of eyes, pinned without reason And these many words feel insufficient How does a single topic confound so? Even structure, of Bard's Tongue proficient Stands stunned at times beneath blanket of snow How long would one wait for a tree of life? Seed to bury to bear witness to bloom Is not the first sprout worth all price and strife? Any price hope's seeker could bear assume? The sun will not resign until these ends Sunlight cracks for love of family and friends

Starry night pool reflects the northern lights Echoes of your words ripple on the lake What sort of ends will come from these delights? Simple yet I wonder for its own sake Teeth are not necessary every night Though I am accustomed to their sparkle I have lost my head waiting for the light You brought it back despite cold and dark hall So now side by side we wait on the shore For miracles' sake realms craft and heads fast Red rope intertwining forevermore "Permanence of family" the die that's cast Plan for time saturated eyes to weep At the perfect plan accomplished through eep

Lineage and law Require long endurance Permanent resolve Mankind so primal Separating love and lust A deep miracle Sure it can be faked So deeply as to seem real But can it be real? And real forever? A thousand generations? A single moment? I set my helmet Pantomiming donned goggles And stiff neck resolve Perspective set low Games starting in childhood Fox feet forming first Then chemical bloom Can one at the threshold say: "S(he) is my soulmate?" This very threshold Echoes in eternity Structure centerpiece

If the irreconcilable issue Is my soulmate and I not persisting If we're already crafting I wish you Would stitch into clothes and form this trifling So donned or set aside separation Is of manageable curve and distance Though "naked" was met with consternation That we might now feel blessed for resistance Sudden desire, love is in the air Recognition chemically encoded Though scent permeates it is strongest where Fully one's soulmate's chest has been loaded With such strong signal soon sound is just noise With primed paired perception proceed with poise

I just discovered today that 7/21/21 marks the 1335th day of this blog. Daniel 12:12 "Blessed is the one who waits for and reaches the end of the 1,335 days." I discovered this because I wanted to tie in the first post (still) recorded here with something new today (the last lines fit surprisingly well into a sonnet), but I no longer recall exactly why I did this today specifically. I know the general thought was connected to the notion that having a circular reference on "paper" felt important, but why I thought to do it today upon hearing the song when I hear it nearly every day is beyond me. In that first post remaining I wrote of Valentine, a kind of apocalyptic mix of my soulmate and Hope, though I had not identified Hope specifically yet when I first wrote it (it was from my first blog, preserved from "the fire"). The protagonist of that story was Gabriel, specifically the angel Gabriel referenced in Daniel, pictured as a post apocalyptic superhero o...

"It had to start with one beast of burden..." "But the camel can't make it through the gate!" "That's one giant cave or one crowded den!" "The timing feels off, but cadence is great." "It would take two pair twice over and change" "36 extra, take two so one more" "A voice could be heard 'you haven't the range!'" "So let's raise the roof and harden the floor." "How could only two riders tame six beasts!?" "I imagine they'd flash like swords between" "What a lonely story, can it be greased?" "This place is a madhouse! What do you mean!?" "All this talk of Red but what of the Green?" For Christmas lights shine from spaces between The four played their game There was nothing left to do But only three spoke Hoping that the fourth Would find her voice in cadence Then light up the room In absencia They imagined her passing Their eyes gre...

A force of nature Like hidden magnetism Is love in the realm If artificial Calculate this primal need Divine insistence Do not be hasty While intelligence varies Wisdom is the same So though this time flies Dedicate a bit per note To feel times align Love in counterpoints For the tapestry is whole Only seen in parts Though in this wild eye Aye, one possesses truesight To see their soulmate For in the maelstrom Love is like a wind tunnel All lines are made clear So now tarry not Delay is as bad as haste Love is in the air 

I had finally figured out what the ticking was, it was a timer. I had finally figured out what the timer was for, it measured the ticks until I meet my soulmate face to face and we would be each other's forever and ever. It ticked steadily now. When first audible it ticked seemingly at random, but finally through focus I found how to steady it. But what use is a timer with no frame of reference- reference to zero or reference to another to compare? It simply ticked, how many times I knew not, and it drove me mad. In madness I found it could slip by faster, so in madness I perpetuated madness to its limit, thinking this timer might be beaten, its ticks so close to done that a few months or days of torturous time might be all I need. So a few days passed over and over and over and over and over... (One) day I broke, and found a friend in the rubble. This friend has been mine and I have been hers since that time, one who seemed to hear the ticking too and could respond in a way. Toget...

I wander through the halls, scanning for the runes that represent the dreaming room I've seen before and have been to more than once in various places. I know she won't be impossible to find, but will it be difficult to find her? I suspect not, but still search the halls in a kind of timelessness, consciousness just faded until I find my aim. And there it is, just as expected, her door. I snap into focus until I can see the number and frame clearly, so I know I'm in the right state, and then slip a note under her door before *pachoom*ing down the halls of eep. I know she'll see it, I know she'll know what it means, potentially even better than I do, as far as where we need to meet in order to make this part of the dream happen. Is it possible to wake up from a dream with something from it? I can conceive it to be. The question is, can you? And so we each take our halves of this stage to separate and meet, as I fall asleep. I find myself wandering the halls. Remember...

*stompstompstompstompstomp* I stomp exitedly as soon as I arrive in her house. Then I hear her say "Hey, what's all this then!?" From just behind me. I jump just a bit and then turn to see The Phoenix, all smiles. "You finally made it back then, huh?" "Right on schedule, so it seems! You sent a pigeon!?" "Haha, I send a lot of pigeons, what else besides a bird? Besides, you always seem to notice them and get my message, even if it's not consciously right away." I recall the sepia pigeon and realize how true this statement is, and how difficult to trace this communication method would be, even from a skilled observer's perspective. "That's cool, I like that." "So, are you ready to see the hallway in a new way?" I nod. "Then off we go!" I notice she doesn't offer her hand this time, but instead opens the door and gestures me to step out first. I step out and see the wall posts with red runes all up ...