Trees of Life and Love

I have no love life, this isn't a surprise to those of you who actually know me. I write about love, I desire it, I wait for the day when I'll meet my wife and woo her...however, when it comes to the female gender, I am prone to excessive shyness and a wholly undesirable lack of confidence. Sadly in most every other area of my life I am far more confident than I probably have any right to be. Nonetheless, I have no love life, so I write poems about what I would like to have, what I dream of, what I hope for...blah, blah, blah. This poem is actually inspired by one of my favorite Greek myths, it is a story of compassion and commitment, two of my favorite words.

Planted as a seed of hope
Love may grow a mighty tree
A shade under which we might sit
And blend our hearts together

This tree might reach thick roots
Deep into the earth, drawing up
The life-giving water of gentle union
Received through words of grace

Let those words fill my mind
Flow from my heart to my love
Filling our lives with worship
That our well might ne'er run dry

May love 'twine together
Two lives grow as one
These trees of living consciousness
Entwined in lover's embrace

The Fate of Man

So, I had in mind the ultimate fate of sin, and the fact that it is a thing which we, as men, so richly deserve. With that in mind the following is what appeared upon my mind, then flowing through my pen onto the pages of my notebook, then to be transcribed onto my computer and finally posted here...forgive me if I wax dramatic.

The infinite gesture of man disgorge
An unseemly variety of selfish desires
Which challenge the borders of propriety
And draw man into the depths of sinful commission

These vagrant, silent solicitations portend
Man's so rightful fate of infernal torment
Lest he bend his knee in submitting supplication
To he whose right it is to judge the fate of souls

Love and Longing

Well, looking back at my recent posts its been a week or two since I posted a love poem...or anything particularly uplifting...I'm afraid that my new job has not been good for my opinion of the human race, or of the church. Anyway, this is an older poem, well...its a couple of months old anyway, and I hope that this can break some of the 'people are evil and no one loves God' monotony that I seem to have fallen into.

The pale gaze of a love's sweet glance
A longing for that fragrant scent
A whispered word, a soft caress
To release desire so long pent

Love cannot help but look to hope
To see it's tree of life take root
In ancient ways love finds its soul
In ages past vast wisdom to loot

I see your face and find my heart
The seat of this most ancient desire
Within your eyes my mind is gone
My vaunted reason fails to respire

Love is rarely reasonable but never wrong
It knows no excuse and seeks no recompense
The power of the storm gentled by compassion's caress
Mind would follow heart, and hope not be slave to sense

The Rock Weeps

I am an insular person by nature, untrusting and suspicious. I am uncomfortable around people and I do not easily let them into my life. I much prefer being the consular than the consulee, though I have done my share of both. The problem with this is that at the same time that I am so cautious about letting people really know me I deeply desire to be known and understood. This often comes out in odd ways, off-hand comments, questions that are simple yet complex, awkward attempts at building friendships that most often end in confusion for all involved and frustration for me. I think that I feel much more free writing here and opening myself, such as I am at any rate, because the internet is relatively anonymous. I will probably never know who has read this and will certainly never see most peoples reaction to these words. My inmost nature is surrounded by successively higher walls of cynicism, sarcasm, morbidity (though some of that is an expression rather than a defense), and intellectual elitism. I do all that I can to hide myself, and I often do it without even trying. That being said...I constantly try to bring down these barriers, usually unsuccessfully, and always seek for people who are willing to do the work it takes to climb over, push through, and break down my many walls. This poem is an expression of both that insular nature and the desire to be known.

I stand unreached
And yet refuse to move
I am the rock

There is naught
That may touch me
Through armor wrought of stone

I guard the borders
Of my small state
Refusing entry to all

For I have no need
Of friendship's grace
Nor love's bittersweet rewards

I am alone
I stand unto myself
Longing for compassion's touch