...So I stood there, hands in pockets,
jingling change. Stood there listening
to life that doesn't sleep. Cars on freeways,
exhaust fumes crying into the sky. I listened
to the moon rise orange, and then white,
as if moving across the heavens drained her of
life and soul.

My ears pricked to hear the sobbing of a mother
whos baby-child has left her arms for angels,
and is lulled to slumber by starsongs, instead
of her own melodies. I listened to the soft
whisper of her lover, in desparate attempt to
stop her from asking...why?

It was my own sigh that brought in the heart-cry
of a girl who's eyes see a pathetic image
and had it confirmed by a careless boy. An
opportunist, under the balanced sign, who played
her instruments until they sounded out of tune,
and painful.

And I heard Mars, the Red Planet of War and
Aggression, screaming in the bleakness of
of a nightsky, outshined by a City that lives to
Sin. I tried to shut my ears to the expletives of
an angry not-quite-god, intent on devouring the
needy, and the scorned.

There are nights like this, when I want
to hear the inner silence of the sound-less.
When I need to feel the peace of a deaf-mute
princess, who sees more than I ever could.

It is then, (always), in the cacophony of
my mind, (which insists on suffering me through
dissonance and chord most melancholy), that somehow,
you reach me. Your stature mutes the physical sound
of random pain, if only to let me breathe.

In the painting of Home, I have scorched,
(loss would be unfair), your silhouette,that stands next to bright lights
and neon comforts of a place no one calls home anymore.

There will be a time, when I have found true solitude,
and the skyline will not have Mars screaming,
or the glittering of a thousand pieces of fool's gold. And I will long (always),
for the piece of time where you live, and
the silence you bring to the din of a scattered soul

08/27/2008

Author's Note: I wrote this about Jon, when we were first dating, in 2003. He seemed to be an Oasis of sorts, and I couldn't want to make him permanant. I can't believe I found it.

Posted on 08/27/2008
Copyright © 2024 Maria Kintner