Darque's Home World

The Possibility Of Being

Looking into your eyes started a journey
A purpose, a place I had not gone before
Filled with the colors of pure light and love
My soul found a home beyond that door

Your voice pulled me from the darkness
A heart that taught me what to be
I learned what kindness and purity are
That it wasn't my eyes that needed to see

Your touch like gentle rain drops
Guided me to the purest light of all
Within the essence that I call me
I could reach and not fear the fall

In my eyes I see your gift returned
All that I now see shared with you
As I healed you, you helped to heal me
Together as one we made it through

My voice tells you of unexplained things
Your loved ones who stand near, not far
Waiting for you to open and experience
Things not seen, just felt, just are

Touch my hand for that is my soul
Walk into the understanding of unknown seeing
Pass beyond the pain and sadness
And know with me ... the possibility of being

The Writer As One Being?

The above poem is very special to me for two reasons. First would be the person it was written for and second would be the incredible night in which it was created. Nothing written before or after has ever compared.

The old saying is that "writing is the one job that you do alone." I no longer agree with this. It was the incredible connection that I had with another person that literally put the words into my hands. It was like nothing I had ever experienced and was the most creative night I have ever had.

Turning Inward

Turning inward-to journey
the internal tunnel that is me
Many corridors of existence
combined to make the whole of me

One is marked Past

Chambers of time
I cannot return to
only look back upon

One is marked family

Upon it also marked special
Sounds of laughter and chatter
when we are all together

One is marked Friends

Many there have been
They have come and gone
each special in their own way

One is marked Love

Slightly scarred
There has been some hurt
loving the people I know
in many different ways

One is marked Poet and Writer

Silent and serene
The part no one else can reach
and sometimes can not understand

Then a final corridor marked Future

Dark and empty
For I know not where it leads
I can only hope