Within the drama of our Souls
that's told
through eye-locked, heart-felt gazes,
We learn this wordless language of Truth.

Despite the funneling to the framework of the
Moulding of the Mind,
There is You and
There is Me
Within this space for Observation.

It is here we become Witness
to the shields of our egos,
And the safety in the lie of knowing ourselves.

I see, Now, my heart--
Tender and raw--
Hides safely within
an armoured shell so strong that
Even I have been numbed
to recognize
it's very existence.

Beyond complexities and constructs,
Within the eye of the
Storm that is
My Self
exists
Stillness,
and the Eternal
Me...

A Fertile Garden of
Great Possibilities,
contained from it's
Explosive Grandeur
Only by the
Fear
of Trust's Betrayal.

Many times have I come here,
Heart Opened to a
Union borne
Blindly
In desolation,
and I've stood here--
RIGHT HERE--
Naked and alone
with the warmth of my beloved's touch
fading
quickly
from my fingertips.

And I mourn, Now, for my echoing reflection
because
Here I am The Watcher,
Here I am The Witness,
Here I am The Lover
who gives comfort to My Self,
Recognizing, Now,
the doubt I've placed against Us,
grown from fear
that's built from experience.

Through your eyes I see, also,
Your Own Garden
and the Seeds of Highest Love
Sprouting Still,
Behind poisonous stares of
Anger,
Hurt, and
Shame
towards Me.

So I am wracked with the
Torment of
Knowing the
Beauty we now may sacrifice
To spare the
Pain of feeling
Deserted
Once Again.

I see your Reclusive Side more potent--
Stronger your ease to
Disconnect
from the Eternal within
Me,
And alone
within your stare
I mourn
longingly
for the Rose
Allowed to
Die unblossomed
Still within it's bud.