Isn't it strange?
When I close my eyes,
When this world
Melts down
Like the falling cold rain,
Slowly covering the
Window panes, streaking them
With uncertainty and haze,
It is then that my mind is awake.
In that surreal darkness
I can find the other me.
A woman who has lived
A life so very different from mine.
She has three children.
A tall boy of six:
Deep brown eyes
with flecks of green and gold,
Manacled to visceral sadness
The worlds pain enthroned
Within him, and his smile
So pure, like the rare winter dew
Frozen upon a tropic bud,
a frozen death, a sleeping
Beauty.
His hand reaches
Out to his sister, her gold
Ringlets falling softly
Around her toddlers face
While she plays with Her dolls.
Innocence so bright around her,
You would think she's the Sun.
Chris's gaze drifts from her to
scan the small scene
For something is array,
He must shield her from it.
She is HIS sister.
HIS to protect from the world,
From the pain in His eyes.
Hand in hand they walk
down the hall, pulled like magnets
to the new blue room, their newest joy.
That small bundle of wrinkled skin,
And passed down cloth,
A parcel so small that Joyce looks
Upon its tiny nose thinking
How to dress a small body for
The tea party later that afternoon.
What a way to introduce
This newest member
Of her clan of soft huggable bears
And ever-smiling plastic faces,
they say his name is Sam.
The third charm to their triad:
Chris, Joyce and Sam. Together
They'll take over the world,
And be home in time for cookies.
I see each of them,
I can almost touch them
And hear the crinkling of their
Laughter as clear as the final embers
Burning in my fireplace,
Their colors vibrant and glowing,
Filling my soul with their heat , their power.
I see my arms
Full of their love,
So full of their joy,
That I almost forget,
That it almost slips my mind
You were not there.
Your scent does not pervade
Your strong arms do not surround
You do not complete me
Suddenly I know why his eyes
Glisten in my dreams
Why Joyce plays so quietly in her
Softly painted pink room.
The rain slows down,
I can see
Through the wet trails
Of their presence in the window
Behind my darkened eyes,
Once again I am alone,
I am that choice
Which I fear so greatly,
I am humble love,
left for the solitude of rain.
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