Gods Tear

God looked at all that was and smiled

Out of God's eye fell a single tear of joy

As the tear fell it started to tumble

Turning to ice

The ice becoming so hard

That it shattered into innumerable fragments

Each a small soul, as a crystal unique unto itself

But many sided, having touched others in its creation

A crystal perfect? Yet not perfect stands

As the soul stands transparent to the world

Still the soul, as the crystal many sided be

From which side have I touched you

Were you one with me, you seem so familiar

Perhaps we'll just need to wait and see

Or were you one with my soul mate

Only touching on their other side

Perhaps many, my soul mate may be

Each touching my heart, my eye's, my thoughts

Then again it could be the memory of being all as one

And each in our way, reaching to find our way home again










Adrienne



I move more toward the place of understand I sit today and look out at an ocean silver with the sparkle of sunlight. I wonder if the feelings of having touched are real or just my imagination. But as I listened to the surf crash on the shore my mind plays tricks and finds me thinking of people and places loved and left in times, remembered and forgotten. Then as we stumble along our way we are touched by them again.

I will tell a story perhaps it's just a dream, or could it be memory, most forgotten and then stumbled on again. Her name was a Adrienne, woman of the sea. Still as the white caps ride the crest of the ocean swells my mind is drawn back to her. The gentlest hands softest voice the inside strong beyond belief.

She lived not far from the ocean and could often be found walking the path from her house to the rocks overlooking the waves or below. She would stand transfixed by the power of the waves as they beat there frothy heads against the rocks below. Other times I might find that she had taken the longer trail to the small white sand beach nestled in between two of the giant cliff rocks as if it were protected by two large stone hands.

I would find her here, shed of all cloths, in the shelter of the rocks baking in the sun. If only I could hand her my soul by touching her hand and in so doing see the sparkle in her eye as when she is touched by the sun and the sea. Then I would know whenever and where ever we may be we shall be together. Eyes the color of the sea, hair black as the raven but touched with red as if touched by the flickering hearth fire.

But now I sit and watch the ocean, waves that are silvered by the sun, crash upon rocky shores. My thoughts return to you and where you are, what are you doing and thinking, my thoughts, my mind seem to reach out spreading across space and time as the mist spreads across the ocean, just beyond the breakers edge.

Now as I sit here lost in thought and time. My hand is not empty, though you are miles and miles away your hand is in mine. Perhaps we've moved across time.

I touch the sand and playfully write your name with my finger, I am humbled by the gentle kindness and yet overpowering strength I find in you.

So stand by the oceans edge, lay your hand in the waves as they wash upon the shores I shall do the same, and though separated by most half a world in space and time, I shall know your thoughts and you shall know mine.

If it were possible for me to know tomorrow and see the day that you have left this earth. I would wish to have been by your side to hold your hand giving you a last moment of comfort, letting you know you will never be left alone.

If I were lucky, I would be allowed to continue holding you hand making the journey together with you by my side.

Adrienne


The Most Beautiful Poem I'll Ever Write



It's as if I have found myself in a dream

we have once again reached out and touched

and we will touch again

if not on this beautiful world

then in a place where we both felt wanted

at peace with all

where we will be again

But as we go our separate ways

And make lives of our own wishing

Many of the brightest moments for me are when we meet briefly

just standing close

knowing you are there

the bells I hear in your voice

the smell of your fresh washed hair.

And when, we seldom touch

it is not my undertaking to interfere with who you are

nor to change your life

Your life must be planned by you

the steps you take

the direction to go must be of your own choosing.

I may only be here to offer kind words

understanding or what? if asked

if in the course of our lives here, knowing each other

I manage to make you feel special from time to time

then my time here has not been wasted.

But with only my simple words I feel so lacking

for you are the poem I wish so much to write.

I have tried, nothing but the title comes.

Then as hard as I try

I cannot find words beautiful enough to finish

So I sit, a plain sheet of paper framed on my wall

with only a your name for a heading

It's the most beautiful poem all ever write.


Heart open free

The heart is born open and free

The soul carries with it always, remembered love

Then man puts fences around the heart and denies the soul

expecting all to be what opinion dictates they should be

Perhaps someday we will realize we are not very good at being what others dictate

The fences will be ripped down

We will then decide to be only who we are

Letting the openness and the innocents of the heart guide us

Not rejecting loves of the soul

But excepting this as who we are, being proud of the awareness we found


Fairy's Finger

Fantasy, but the rings around a fairy's finger

Hold them, clutch them for all their worth

They're not long to linger

Dreams are but the clouds

That float through the mind

Fleeting and darting

At times hard to find




The Tree

Morning light comes bringing life to a new day

Fresh snow fall hides scars upon the land

as laughter hides scars upon the soul

The ancient tree having been one, split to show it's duality

Spit and curved like the waters of the sea

holding back the waves, to let others pass

With in it's duality, Woman and Man

But as one, letting life pass between

Moving forward towards the shining mountain

A mountain who watched and was old

when first the seed sprouted

Springing forth from the earth a tree

In the first warm glow of a new dawning

As a new soul springs forth, rejoicing a new life


Two Trees

By JH Smith

Two trees together, sharing duality

Reflections, of souls reaching for their mate

Moving apart, yet bending back

Ever reaching toward each other

Reflections in the snow

As the waves of the sea spreading apart

then curling back to touch and become one

Hesitating in time as the soul, to become ancient

Letting life pass between toward the light

Life, so much like the snow

Beautiful for a short time

Then as the snow, with the coming of the light

The soul and the light become one


Words Of Returning

A Letter Poem by JH Smith

In the ocean of time, as long as there has been man and wars, men have gone to war while

women wait at home. The lucky will return to the woman who waited. Many who go,

simply will not return. Yet those who return often find they are a stranger unto themselves.

Unable to tell the woman just how special she is to him. So he tries to tell her in the only

way he has talked to her in months or perhaps years, with a letter. So how many letters like

the one below were read or not and being either, changed the lives of the ones they touched?





Adrienne

I have been away from home for many a month now. I was called like so many others to fight in a war not of our own making, but one that we all knew could not be ignored. As you know, I led many young men away with me when I went, some have returned some never will. I will carry the ones who did not with me forever. Now my first day back, I feel most a stranger in my own home as if I no longer belong. I know I'm not the first, nor will I be the last to think or feel this way.

So I write this, for it's something I must someday say to you, but am unable to now. For I'm now a stranger, not so much to you, but to myself.

I feel it's almost sad that all these months I have been away, my only way of talking to you was to write you a letter. Now I'm my first day home and I sit in the half dark writing to you again by candle light as if I'm still gone. When there you stand only steps away in the other room.

When I laid my eyes on you this day, the feeling went through me that no matter the time, I had never nor would ever see anything so beautiful. As I held you in my arms, I knew I was holding the part of me that has been missing all these long months away.

I know, I'm not the same man who went away so many months ago. The lines in my face are deeper, my eye's seem to look out at the world from a place far away. I knew you felt this when we first touched today. I not only saw the happiness in your face, because of our coming home. I also saw the sadness in your eye's when you looked into mine, for you felt the hurt now living inside of me.

It is so good to be home, but somehow it doesn't seem right spending the night under a roof.

Then tonight as we sat talking by the fire, with only the fire light and a few candles, everything just hit me. The hurt, the coming home, the relief it's all over and I started to cry. I thought what she must think, my first night at home and I'm crying like a baby.

You reached out, took my hand and pulled me across to you. I fell to my knees on the floor buried my face in your lap and sobbed, all the time clutching my arms around your legs as a small child holding to it's mother.

And what do you do? You hold my head slowly stroking it with your hands as you rock me back and forth, saying all the time. It's ok now, it's ok, you're beside me again, you're at last home.

Thank you my dear for being here. I have often said you know and understand me better than I know myself. I think about you always, day or night you are never more than an eye blink away from my thoughts.

So why do I write this now? I will put it away and perhaps someday after I'm gone you shall find it and understand how very special you are. Or perhaps we will read it together, someday and remember. Someday when I again find myself.

If there be time, no matter where we are, or over our years to come, no matter who we become. I shall always love you. Loving you is not just something I do, it's who I am. There is just simply no other way I can be.

And days will come when you no longer feel beautiful. That's when I wish to be the one close to remind you, how truly beautiful you are.

Alyxander


With You Always

Times come, then moved on

As all things must do, when I have gone

A time will come, my name most forgotten

Removed, I have become from everyday thought

My image dimmed, lost from your vision

My voice a stranger to your ears

But when the day shall come, feeling unloved

You sit, head down in deep despair

Alone allowing sadness to creep in

Remember my face, call my name

Listen within your memories for my voice

For I'm the one, with love unconditional

Who shall forever hold you in my soul

A part of this soul, you carry with you always

Reach out, I am with you