The Mist that Stirs

The Mist is thickening

And the least chance he has to see

The sea that separates all lovers

From sharing glances, lips and souls.

 ~

Because he lives behind the mountains

And the cold winds and snow

Chill his heart into a sad blue shard

And the Ice dampens every and each heartbeat.

 ~

It’s thick enough,

It won’t shatter, and that’s a relief

But it won’t move either, so what’s the point?

 ~

No heart is inert, though,

And he finds it in his heart that

Heat can be generated -

Melt away the icicle cage of apathy.

 ~

For the visions of generations of lovers,

The New, The Gone, The Coming,

Have taught him that Love will not fade away,

As it is inherently Human.

 ~

So there’s still Hope, despite the thickening Fog.

And images of lovers separated by Sea,

Raging waves and stormy gusts,

Atop cliffs and passions

Warm his vitality and being -

To feel alive is nice every once in a while.

 ~

Sure it is sad,

To watch distant lovers…

But it constantly reminds him

That no matter the distance, resonant souls are adjacent,

For the physical plane is simply the most pathetic,

But it’s the one we have.

The other, we can only entertain

With a beating heart,

With a beating heart,

With a sad depart,

With a new start.

 ~

The fuel to keep imagining is thus running out.

Lest he finds the much needed enharmony he will not suffice,

Erased from all planes of existance,

To become a wilt flower amidst a barren field of nothing

Behind the Mountains that are behind the Sea,

In an eternal cold and freeze,

Still and quiet

In Time.

 ~

Praised be all Humans,

Who in hate and constant longing for discord

Find beauty in the never ending Chaos of Passion,

Awe brings the innocence of an embrace that can light flames

To destroy everything, and build anew.

 ~

The World is not still.

Live with it, since I cannot live.