Poem – When Love Blossoms
When love blooms
A blossom, the soft petals opening,
beaconing like the
welcome arms
that enfolded me
in warmth and safety.
His arms, into which I run,
give me such peace
within the chaotic world…
and….
within me.
2/16/1993
Poem: Words (draft, 2006/2018)
Words are such a strange thing.
What is in a word that gives it
Such power…
How can one such thing hold
The meaning of a kiss
In its outreaching hand, just a breath
From your lips, and yet,
In the next moment, be once again
A simple word
Filled with innocent effervescence.
We wield words with abandon;
Tossing them about here and there
Giving them freely with little
Acknowledgement or even awareness of the
Consequences,
Repercussions,
Power,
That they can wield.
And as always more words to follow.
Want
Wield
Wait
Watch
Will
Wander
Wonder
Wish
Words.
G. S. Skye, 2006/2018
I fly, I exist (draft)
I am here
Though you may not notice
Above the trees I soar
High within the clouds
Looking down upon the earth.
And so I guard you.
The wind lifts my wings,
I Coast down, my eyes closing
As I sniff the warm spring air.
Tilting my head, I come to land
My hooves clicking softly on the stone path.
Though you can not see me.
This glade is my home
Far beyond the veil of knowing
Into a land where my like reside
Mystic in our presence
Forgotten with time
And yet we both, in anticipation, wait.
Folding my wings along my back
I walk along the steams edge.
My silken mane falls forward
As I bend to drink;
Crystalline liquid there to quench my thirst.
And for a moment, I exist.
With a great bellow
I toss my head back and rear up.
Muscles stretch as I announce myself
To the world, knowing none could hear me
Yet wishing, just once, for some imagination.
And then, suddenly she, too, was there.
A wee thing.
Golden hair falling to waist
Smiling as she look directly at me.
Seeing me.
And enjoying the majesty of it.
A wee thing, smiling.
She clapped her hands for me.
Laughter floated toward me
Upon the breeze, spurning me forward
With great pride I raced on the wind
Wings spread as it lifted me up.
I danced in the sky as she watched me fly.
I am here
And so I guard you,
Though you can not see me,
And yet we both, in anticipation, wait.
And for a moment, I exist.
And then, suddenly, she, too, was there;
A wee thing, smiling.
I danced in the sky as she watched me fly
Everything has a beginning
Everyone has a beginning.
On the tree of life we start
As too green leaves
Bright, yet fragile
Sprouting upon wobbly limbs,
Reaching for the sun in the sky.
It is a beginning.
With spring, comes strength.
Buds burst forward.
We are steadier,
As the winds bend us,
Rain revives us, and
The early years melt away.
It is the middle.
Blossoms slowly open
And the days warm—
So do we—Friendships mature
And the paths we’ve taken,
Grow more complex and take many turns.
Roads branch out in too many directions.
The sun beats down upon us and we bask in the freedom of it.
When fall comes, the
Roots of your past conjoin with each other.
They enables and entrap, and
As pages of life fall to the ground,
A multi-colored array of experiences
Scatter to the wind.
This is the wisdom bought and paid for with life.
Winter settles in and wraps
Around you as your roods grow
More and more tangles together
Until by spring again,
They have become one mass,
Showing lifetime of information,
Decisions made and choices taken.
In the beginning, spring
Brought us together with
The subtle beauty of a Cherry tree
From beneath the snow:
Its blooms peeking up
Begging to grow,
And the lifecycle continues
Until the last petal falls.
G Skye 2016/2017
I’ll miss you when you’re gone. (Draft)
The same dance we’ve always had
In the morning and before going to bed
Each step mapping out a certain choice;
As the time draws near I lose my voice.
Where will we be months from now?
When you have found your new niche, tell me how
To form a different sort of connection, still.
Can you feel the gentle bending of my will?
Will you miss me when you’re gone?
Shall the season pass till it has been too long?
And when memory serves us bittersweet,
Will you fall away leaving us so very incomplete?
And yet, as the path of fate looms before me
I know the changes will bring to me,
Chances I might have never known.
But I still wonder, will you miss me when you’re gone?
2001
Poem – Enough. (Draft, 2018)
Enough.
I remember the protests of Vietnam.
Barely, but they resonated
in the conversations around me,
that I couldn’t read.
This, at the beginning of my life.
Democracy apparent as people
gathered to protest a
War that wasn’t called a war.
What is war, then?
This conflict of words that clashes with
expectations and fences
with our vision of a free and
powerful country seems to ignore
many of the responsibilities that power entails.
I remember standing at the steps of
City Hall in my hometown
protesting the Gulf War.
I was 18—
Straddling that life moment between
childhood and adulthood.
I remember the flash of cameras, the
press of bodies,
people shouting rhythmic rally cries, and I
remember feeling self-conscious
as words or protest left my own lips.
When the pushing and shoving started,
I let the movement propel me to the
fringe of the crowd and asked
“Why am I here?”,
“Why do I protest?”
I had no answer,
so, I quietly walked away and
back to my dorm room.
Sitting on my bed in silence
I pondered my freedom of choice.
When planes dove– like birds from the sky,
their targets not just our people, but
our sense of national security, too,
it left it bleeding away on the
the foundation of our country.
War took a more terrorizing and
sinister meaning than before.
The game has changed.
Life moved forward, though.
A different, less comfortable life,
But we adapted,
Secured ourselves with the mantle of power
And moved on.
And then, my world stopped.
Everything paused.
The pedestal of hope and security cracked.
Thirty-two lives gone,
One, gone, oh god—
There’s that bittersweet
memory of a past love,
shattered. The place in your mind that
past loved ones live, where you know they are safe,
goes quiet–
extinguished in an instant with
the sharp repeat of the gun echoing in the air.
The veil of security, that belief that
‘it couldn’t, wouldn’t happen’ to anyone you know
ripped away.
And all along with it, the echoes continue.
You can’t speak, for fear you might scream
and never stop.
The silence as the protests and outcries
are ignored slowly engulfs you.
And then more, and more, and so many more.
Children are dying.
Young lives cut to the ground
Before they ever had a chance to become–
Just a hook on the wall, where a
small coat still hangs, never to be worn again.
“Where is the War now?” we asked,
ready for battle.
“We must fight it, give me the enemy.”
And yet the world just kept turning
as the dust settled on the desks and in the
empty halls.
My son was born, and I let the love
of him wrap around me in a cocoon
of family and newness.
For a time, that sense of security returned.
And then it was time for him to go to school.
We have had wars and conflicts. We
proclaim to fight a never-ending
War on Drugs. Yet,
we quietly walk away as
war is waged by our citizens
…on our Children.
This is more insidious than war.
This is our children dying
while the government that
swears to protect us,
brandishes empty promises like a
sword missing its edge.
It protects our “freedom”, more than it protects our lives.
It protects the guns, more than our children.
We have to fight this internal
War of indifference.
As war is a battle between different powers,
the time to take back the
power of our country is now.
The power must shift and the
children of this country should be our first priority.
Our future depends on it.
This is a battle worth fighting.
This is why protests exist and
why compromise is king only when
progress is made
Again, hearts bleed on the day when it
Should be candy and flowers scattered across the floor,
not the crimson stains of horror and despair.
This time, the children are rising and calling for
change, because no one was listening.
Why is no one listening?
They keep dying and no one is
Heeding their screams.
They keep asking us for help,
to keep them safe, and
No one is heeding their call.
They keep praying and
no one is hearing their prayers over the
“Ching, ching” of political favors.
The children in Parkland stood up, though, and said,
“ENOUGH!”
Did you hear them?
Did you see them?
Do you understand that this is
the battle you need to fight today?
This is the stand you take?
And today, when nineteen more perish,
trapped in a room, no way out,
suddenly silenced.
Do you hear them?
Do you understand their sacrifice?
Can you continue to stomach your inaction?
Is it enough, yet?
Before more gentle voices are silenced…
Again.
-G. S. Skye 14 March,2018
Edited 26 July 2021 and 24 May 2022
Poem- Wish I Could Say (Draft, 2018)
I wish i could say
That it will all be okay,
And that the worry and fear
Won’t consume you.
So many years of the ups and downs;
Of trying to handle it all.
Just remember that this time
You are not alone
Oh my love, my heart and joy,
Would that I could
Wish all of these worries away,
And be a balm on your tired soul.
Instead just know, I am here, my love
And here I shall be
Whenever there is the need;
For oh how I love you so.
G. Skye, 2018 – Draft
Poem – An Ancient Hymn
Waves flood against my soul
Caressing the pounding of my heart.
As it beats to an ancient hymn,
I feel myself tumbling gently
Off a cliff.
Over I fall to the depths
Of an ocean where I have never been,
Or even glimpsed.
Falling down, tumbling really,
To the soft, welcoming ground.
The rhythm awaits me with open arms.
It wraps around me like gentle breeze
On a warm spring day,
Filtering through the realms of possibility
With nature’s sweet music singing.
Such songs barely compare, however, to
The music of my heart.
12/6/1992
(19 years old)
Poem – I hold the petal of soft velvet…
I hold the petal of soft velvet
between my fingers.
It possesses a fragrance that
stands still in time.
It takes me back to my childhood
with memories of my grandmother’s perfume.
Or forward I go to a walk along the paths
of a rose garden at a grand estate in full bloom.
Such a simple thing of beauty alone
becomes magical when
given by a new love;
almost as enchanting
as the feelings that bloom between two young souls.
2/16/1993 (BM)
(edited 8/4/2017)
Alone
Silence surrounds
As her soul weeps in fear.
Lost to despair as she stares at the ground;
Fresh earth entombing one she held dear.
As twilight fades and darkness comes
The nighttime symphony softly sings
And solitude enshrouds her– her heartbeat thrums.
Such a forsaken figure pondering the end of hope death brings.
So Quiet.
So Distant.
Forever seems such a very long time
To be
so
very
alone.
