Black Night

There is nothing quite so unsettling as dead silence in the middle of the night... and the dark so black you don't know if your eyes are opened or closed. Everything is still...

The grinding wheels of a turning streetcar pulled me awake, but it has gone now - headed on its run through deserted city streets...

The only sound is my breath.. the house is not even creaking tonight... no hum of the fridge or furnace... just black silence.

In my dreams and in the turnings of my sleep, I have reached out for you, hoping to find the warmth of you close. On a night like this, I would run my fingers along the length of your sleeping naked form, tracing your lines and curves... Lay gently beside you, curled to your back... slowly draw you to that place between sleep and awake with warm slow kisses on the back of your neck... As you slowly turn in the land between dreams and aware, I would explore the shape of you... your hills and valleys... softness and strength... I would breath in the scent of you, finding you in the dark by instinct... blind, but knowing your body by a touch as gentle as a breeze...

As your body responds to mine... Your breath changing... In the silence, in the dark... I would make slow gentle love to you... Clinging to each other and slow rocking... Some where between sleep and awake... But always in my dreams...

Changeling

To The Lady on the Train,

You are so changeable, never the same... Solid, a willow, smoke, rain, an oak, an ocean, a breeze, lightening, stillness, a flurry, a wall, a caress...

In all the shades and forms of you, always beauty... always my heart.

The Man in the Station

A Future

To The Lady on the Train,

You are the most amazing woman. A beauty and strength that astonishes me... a sweetness and tenderness that absolutely moves me...

There are times when I get a glimpse into what might have been... the past that I might have had, the future that I might of had... It is though all of my choices are laid out before me like a great plain, the paths that I could have chosen... all the things that I did not know, did not trust, or never thought possible...

But I am grateful for what I do have - and I cannot regret any of the choices that have brought me to you...

I would spend my life with you, if I could... I would give you all that I have and all that I am... and I would be the better man for it...

The Man in the Station

Absence..

To The Lady on the Train,

Does absence make the heart grow fonder? Or does it allow one to fade away a little bit every day?

It seems like both...

The Man in the Station

Moments

To The Lady on the Train,

There are moments that pass between us, so ephemeral, yet so intense that they will hold me for days....

These moments, strung out on the rope of time, like pearls on a necklace - each one unique, each one precious...

These moment are magic... They are when I know all that I need to..

The Man in the Station

A Wish

To The Lady on the Train,

I wish for too much...

The Man in the Station

So short...

To The Lady on the Train,

You didn't stay here for long and are gone again...

It seems shorter every time.

The Man in the Station

Saint Helen's Steeple

The steeple from the church rises up over this neighbourhood, pointing, like a finger to the sky. It is a sentry over the rooftops of the crowded houses, the narrow streets, the back allies... And though I cannot see it from this place in the back yard, I know that it is there.. I could point in it's direction through brick and trees.. it has a dominant presence over this landscape.. it presses itself upon the consciousness of this neighbourhood...

This area is busy.. there is always something moving.. cars, streetcars, working families and the downtrodden.. all huddled into the lee of the railway tracks on the slant toward downtown..here, it is gritty and sublime... slimy dangerous bars with underworld and desperate people jostle against neo-hippy granola crunchers in the organic shops.. but all us move under the shadow and watch of the church steeple...

Today, the normal din of the streets - the cars and rails, shouts of children or men fighting.. all of that changes when the bells start to ring... The clear metal sound floats over the roofs, loud and distinct.. pulling your thoughts toward the steeple, whatever else you may have been doing stops.. like being pulled awake from a dream, your focus changes..

I do not know what the bells are ringing out.. a death, a marriage, a birth... a gathering... There will be people gathered on the front steps of the church.. grey men in jackets and hats.. short, plump women, dresses too tight.. the youth on the edges of the lawn, awkward and wanting to play,  teenagers caught between the two, not sure how to act, torn between proper respect and abandon.... A coffin or white dress... the gatherings are the same - it is only the emotion that changes... and maybe the shoes..

The bells ring out some occasion in this neighbourhood...a profound change in the lives of some members of this community.... and for a brief moment, we are made aware - to take note.. to perhaps pay attention to people that we do not know... The bells ring out some common human experience - love, loss... The bells ring out their joy or sorrow... and so it is shared...

The steeple rises above this neighbourhood, a sentry. A reminder that we are all in this together.

Spaceman

To The Lady on the Train,

Your wonders and contradictions never cease to amaze me... you are a universe... I will gladly fall into your orbit and explore... always learning, always surprised...

The Man in the Station

Wherever

To The Lady on the Train,

I do not know our future... I do not know where we will end up or the paths that we will take...

But wherever I go, I want you to be there...Wherever you go, I will be by your side...

Come what may...

The Man in the Station

Sometimes..

To The Lady on the Train,

Sometimes I feel that  am not enough to hold you, to keep you...

The Man in the Station

freckles and stars...

a sliver of a white moon is hung low in a pale bright blue sky... early evening still and the sun's influences lights our world as the moon strengthens..

but the earth will turn on it's axis and soon the moon will disappear into the western horizon, following the sun..

without a cloud in the sky, I already know that this night will reveal a million stars.. the sky black velvet pinholed by pure white stars, each one a hope... a dream... an entire universe to explore, a glimpse of wonders that we might imagine.. colours that we cannot see, distances that we cannot fathom...

and here on earth, ... a million freckles on your white skin... each one it's own miracle.

every star in the heavens is magic... each one a wish, a kiss, a hope, a dream, a mystery... The stars will arc across the sky through the night.. The morning will dawn like this evening, a pale blue sky, the moon following the sun...

but mirrored in the day, across your arms, shoulders, breast - your freckles like constellations... truly heaven on earth.... beauty revealed

on your flesh, wonders yet hidden... a universe across the sky of my thought.

if only... then you would know...

On this bright blue morning - a day after the storms; the cool air like a crystal, and the sounds of the still sleeping city, my thoughts are wrapped up in you. If I could only send my thoughts out to you to wrap around your warm body still laying in your bed... hold you tight for just a bit and watch you sleep... feel the rise and fall of your breath and the beat of your heart... If I could send out my thoughts to you as a projection of myself that blankets you and lays sweet kisses on your temples and cheeks, nestles warm on your shoulder, a whisper on the back of your neck...

Then you would know...

You would know everything that I lack the words to express...

To The Lady on the Train,

Time is linear. We can never go back to change our past, correct a mistake, take advantage of some missed opportunity... Fix what you can, Forget regrets...

No day but today...

The Man in the Station