Discovering Poetry

My heart is so full I cannot speak.

When I touch the depth of your love,

I find myself waiting there,

Hoping only to be touched and felt by you again.

Poetry is a new tool, a means of giving

Sound to the feelings and

Feeling to the sounds in my heart.

My soul is reaching out for you,

Knowing you, too, are reaching out from your hiding place.

Our souls and hearts embrace, intertwine and merge,

Reminding us of our past, and of our future.

Poetry is a new gift, a means of giving

Substance to the body of the soul.

8/6/94

That Place

Just the thought of returning to that place;

                So sacred, so private, so hidden, so guarded.

Just the thought reminds me

                Of what used to be there.

They say it’s that place where joy resides, but

                I only seem to recall pain being there.

That’s where pain lives, too, they say.

                Where then, I ask, is joy?

Before we came here this time,

                I gave you the key to that place.

When it’s time, we agreed, you would

                Open the door I had locked myself out of.

You came as you said you would, reminding

                Me of the pain stored so carefully there.

And when you touched my heart,

                I found joy.

8/7/94

Life, Time

I watched the clock stand almost motionless

                As I waited for the moment when I could

Finally talk to you.

                As I feigned interest in the everyday

Conversations going on around me,

                I recaptured the feeling of the

Last moment we had, and more of me

                Left the conversation.

I backtracked slowly and carefully,

                Savoring every bittersweet moment

We had shared.

                I slowly began reviewing my life with a new

Set of eyes called a heart,

                And used this new vision to see

What my future could be or should be, or

                What it might only be, without you in it.

This journey through our past, my past,

                and my future, took a lifetime.

As I glanced up, the clock had finally

                Moved, ticking off another precious second.

8/10/94

Losing Touch

I know you’re in there,

                I get glimpses as you pass through sometimes.

It’s like those wide peripheral images you think you see,

                but they never seem to be there when you really look.

I can’t seem to be here, and in there with you too.

                Having found you, rediscovered you,

My fear was I would lose you, and although I don’t think you’re gone,

                I can’t seem to find you, and I feel lost.

This emptiness follows me lately,

                A great cloud passing overhead.

Casting a shadow on the greatest

                Light I’ve ever seen.

9/1/94

Falling

It’s been ages since I last touched you.

                Four weeks by the calendar in this reality,

A lifetime where I live.

I feel you drifting away,

                Leaving an ever increasing chasm in my heart.

I tossed a stone in that deep hole the other day;

                It still hasn’t struck bottom.

9/2/94

Lost

There are places where things go when they’re lost.

                Socks from the dryer, the $20 bill you’re sure you had yesterday.

The things you can’t seem to lose

                End up in that junk drawer haunting you.

The worst, though, are those things that are so important

                And precious that you put them in a special place,

And then you can’t recall where that place is.

                I’m afraid I’ve done that with you.

9/4/94

The Message

At first I thought the message was for your benefit.

                From somewhere deep inside myself I was told

To contact you, to hold you and your vulnerability.

For a long time I didn't understand the message.

                My heart, unaccustomed to inner communication,

Responded with fear and trepidation.

I sought intermediaries, those who understood

                Voices from the heart.

They pointed out your pain, your openness, how fragile you were.

I know, I said, that's what draws me.

                So in my confusion, I tried to put into words

A message that was pure emotion.

I stumbled through those attempts trying to explain

                Why I was driven to contact you, connect with you.

Your heart smiled and quietly listened.

Slowly the message became more clear and

                Fewer words were necessary.

Soon, our hearts spoke and there was no sound.

Part of the message came from that other world that

                Happens before we are born into this life.

For a moment we touched that other time, and understood.

But then the message became bigger, and we

                Became dwarfed by the immensity of it.

It seemed to grow, and again I stumbled to follow it.

This message was no longer linear like a statement.

                It came in width and depth and from all sides,

Enveloping and encompassing us.

How sharp a line we walked trying to

                Focus on the growing message.

How close we were to falling off this world.

You were a mirror, although I couldn't see myself.

                And I; I was an open book for you to read.

I looked beyond you, through you, following the message.

And slowly I realized what the message was.

                The message was the Divine, the Beloved,

And the message was for me.

9/5/94 - 9/14/94

all material Copyright Bret Stephenson 2001

For more information, contact Bret.

All material Copyright by Bret Stephenson 1997-2008
unless noted otherwise.

Last Updated December 20, 2008