In Springtime he came
And the freshness of a promising wind
Softly blew away the damp, the stale, and the grey.
Wearing a disarming smile upon a desert-kissed face
His penetrating gaze could make virtue out of sin.
Through dim and dusty windows of a soul soaked in sorrow
I saw the Perfect Vision
But for a time too long I drifted into his smoldering eyes
As eyes such as those had never been laid upon me.
In one breathless moment but captured forever in time,
My steadfast senses lay like shards of broken glass
But so gently he swept them away like butterflies in the breeze.
Deep into the darkest, most sacred corners he seeped
With ease he unearthed my treasures and all within
I calmly surrendered.
Ember-less ashes of torched out dreams
Resurrected with one soul-shaking kiss the wistful notion that
A Love Such As This Exists.
Risen from its frozen, dreamless slumber
My skin took its first breath of Life
When introduced our bodies became
And as he journeyed into that forbidden gift
I became hopelessly lost to his passionate will,
Sweetly embraced by A Love Such As This.
Damned, should be the merciless, soul-deprived shadows
That prey upon those so deeply in love as I
Though hypnotized by Love,
Unsuspecting and Blind
I deserve not this searing ache.
Out of my diamond blue sky those little birds will fly
And heavy with clouds of Truth it becomes
As relentlessly the Angry rain falls.
Circled inescapably in gold this precious stone belongs not to me
And long before my Springtime came to pass,
There stood with him another in the Light of all that is Holy.
Myself a Child of God I remember all of the teachings
Of Righteous living and surely the Angels in their celestial dwellings
Look down with tear-stained faces.
Although burdened with untarnished shame
Away I cannot turn, drawn still to his undeniable essence.
Thunder claps but the music continues to play and keeping Time
With the lightning in the sky are the candles that Tirelessly burn.
Flowers that lose their petals in the storm are still flowers
And I am but a monarch resting on a rose
When again he reaches for me.
Forgotten is the circle I am not in and as he calls to me
I am instantly transported back to my Springtime
Where I am embraced by the Lightness of A Love Such As This.
©Deanna L. Collins
September 9, 2007
Used With Permission
All Rights Reserved By Author
Somewhere My Love ~ Theme from Dr. Zhivago
Sequencer Unknown To Me
Webset ©Majestic Websets
Artwork ©Unicorn's Art