Where Silver Tears Do Rust

44,005 poems read

Transition...2002

Transition is the ever changing, evolving of ones spirit.
The n undercurrents and ripples of the sea. My spirit is always in a state of transition. Rising above the material, mortal needs of our world. My aura is blue. Leaping from the strong, Capricorn woman, to the child like girl of my Scorpio rising. Losing my spirit, my id. Needing strong arms to cradle me. No promises to make or to break. No questions asked. No answers given. Peaceful retreat in the joining of two spirits in transition. Tender caresses. Lost in the moment. Two spirits rising above the mortal taboos imposed upon us by men that we don't even care to know. Two hearts, alone, together. Stepping stones, worn smooth by the white rapids of life's treacherous and splendid rivers and streams. Rough exteriors en-cloak quiet conversation by candle light. I need your company today; even though we've never met. First meetings. Sweet anticipation. The longing to find a kindred spirit. Coming up hard. Coming up fast. Life lessons give way to to a need for one's spirit to find solace in being comfortably settled. safe, warm, independently settled. Hushed voices on the telephone. Dreams of transcending above the chaos. Mystical emotions. Look to the Heavens with hope to find the tiny child within and heal her heart. Look into the vast, barren space that surrounds my being. Search for the eyes of another. One to see me. One spirit. One touch to feel me; to know he. Transition from a world of chaos and distrust into the arms of trust and and peace. My unsettled spirit need you today; even though we've never met. First meetings. Sweet anticipation.
Transition...

L.A.McNabb
2002

Copyright © 2004 Lori Ann McNabb, All Rights Reserved




Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Transition...2002