whirlwind

whirlwind

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR

her face is what my heart paints into
this whirlwind of conflicting images
her velvet voice just within perception beneath wild wind
calling my name with reassurance and empathy
intensity of the night tries again and again to overwhelm
but the grainy vision of my confusions cannot withstand
fragments shatter and her intent sweet and sure shines into my eyes

brittle stone that i lay my head on
while rain soaks the woods around me
pieces of sky seen through canopy of leaves
rushing torrent of clouds
shades of grey
my pale mind grasps at swift thought
like reaching for a ghost
droplets of rain gather in the palm of my hand
slowly pooling there cold and indifferent
swallow them whole bitter and smooth

dusk finds me walking slowly in the woods
without path or direction
admire the madness
question the sky in mumbled phrase
my body inked with the tread of darkness encroaching
seek patterns there like gifts of sweet thought
jumble them till they will play out like
a hopeful dream
a promised heaven on this dark earth

night finds me standing at the edge
of the football field in the drenching rain
in the utter darkness of solitude
my mind speaks loudly at me
gestures animated with images distraught and disturbing
so loud in my head i cannot scream
in some inner corner of me
i wait silent vigil holding hopes light up against
this dark of night

dawn finds me at long last
curled up under a tree
sleep wrapping me in warm tender bliss
i have survived the worst of it
a trail home lay before me
laid out with the clarity that her open and warm heart
had gifted me
sleep now be at ease
she waits for you
she waits for you

© 2015 MARK JOHN JUNOR


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Added on November 20, 2015
Last Updated on November 20, 2015

Author

MARK JOHN JUNOR
MARK JOHN JUNOR

miramar, FL



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© 2015 mark john junor all of my poems are my exclusive property and all rights are reserved more..

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