Tagged: whisper

7-21-15

You touch upon me like a whisper
to willing lips, and weave a melody heard
between us only-
you must know that the skies are bluer
when your arms are wrapped around
me,
and that when you look at me,
the mountains kiss the sky,
and the sea glitters like a bed of liquid
stars…
I see the sun through your eyes,
and through that lens the world is
a masterpiece that forces me to
shake my head in disbelief-
I can only close my eyes under the
weight of it,
and when I do, you always seem
to appear*

-G. Boston

5-26-15

The storm awakens what the sun
lulls to sleep,
just as starlight opens the eyes
of those blinded by the
day-
we are all just a bit jaded,
but our souls itch for that
gentle whisper,
that reassurance,
that power of the storm to
electrify and awaken us,
that strength to surge forward
with a ferocious peace…
each storm is different though,
yet we will still dance in its
rain, our eyes opened by its
reassurance*

-G. Boston

2-16-15

I understand you,
but I won’t believe you-
and though I will listen,
I’ll refuse to hear you-
my goals flow wild and ravenous,
hungry like a tempestuous river overflowing its
banks-
my truths are written in starlight,
penned long before my eyes first
sparkled under their audacious glow-
I cannot listen to the sour notes of naysayers,
steeped in doubt,
or the words of those without the sinew to retain
the weight of their objectives,
or the honesty of their ambition…
I believe in the certainty of natural truths-
in the verity of star notes-
the universal paths that we were born into-
the truth beyond the sunrise,
and the explanation behind the origin–
what we’ve been called to do,
what the dust whispered into our ears at birth,
in the language that only children seem to understand,
a tongue that we rediscover only when our purpose has been found,
our destination recovered-
we become fluent then-
and it is then that we should begin to hear-
it is then that we will need to believe*

2-11-15

The sun glinted off of the window in a soft, muted
gray,
and crept through the slats of the shutters
with a deliberately dreamy patience-
I awoke gently, silent and calm,
as if I’d slept for just a moment only-
I lay there in the room,
knitting thoughts like a patchwork quilt,
weaving decisions in and through like
a thousand tiny seams…
lost, yet grounded-
found, but drifted into the solitary end of the frame-
thoughts of you whisked up a wind in the stillness
as you danced and swirled into sentences muttered
into the echoes-
thoughts of you danced past stolen hopes
and charged to the forefront,
where the grass was thick and verdant, and the sky
kissed down in rains of cobalt and rebirth, and the breeze
dusted off of the trees in melodies of blooming laughter-
the day began then,
as the sun arose and whispered through the shutters
in hues of pale yellow and hollow gray,
but you were there, as I lay alone with my patchwork
thoughts,
you were there at the forefront,
the mast that kept me grounded,
the seam that held the world so tight-
the solitary edge of the frame that was fit for us alone,
under the cobalt sky, kissed by the rains of rebirth*