Honoring a Life

Today I honor the memory of someone who recently left this earth and is resting in peace. Although I miss him profoundly, I find comfort in sweet memories of him and in his words. He often boasted that there was NOTHING I could ever say or do to make him stop loving me and although I never told him, I felt the same way about him.

He was a talented storyteller and poet and I want to share two poems that he wrote as a gift for me many years ago. The two poems not in quotes were written by me--the first one in response to one of his poems and the second one, I wrote years later on his birthday after dreaming of him.

​As I read his poems just now, it seems that our roles have been reversed and so, I feel the absence of his presence; I pine and ache. My poems remain apropos because I do indeed pray that he continue to haunt my dreams.

Missing You
In the absence of your presence,
faith and trust secures your throne
love not space is of the essence
you are here–though you are gone.
Nay you say.
Then so be it–but give a smile to expose your jest.
I pray that you will one day see it
that which to me is manifest--

Untitled
This morning for want of you, I pined and ached--
this afternoon, I endured the plight of the morning.
Tonight, should there not be the slightest allusion to me in your dreams,
tomorrow shall be as empty as today,
when I neither see, nor hear from you, Pilar.

Written in the mid to late 70s.

Haunting
You haunt my dreams
when the moon is full,
and my heart receptive.
You hover above my body and
kiss my mouth like a hummingbird
sucking nectar from a flower.
Oh, haunt me again
for your lips are of honey,
sweet and thick–
your whispers like the wind,
rustling through the leaves in a forest
on a hot summer day.
Oh haunt me again–
I pray.

Soul Tie 07/08/1990 (Written on his birthday)
How is it;
why,
after so many years
you can still reach deep
into my subconscious
and appear to me
in my dreams?
With vividness
unmatched by reality,
you touch me.
I taste
​I feel
the sweetness,
the fullness of your lips,
the gentle force of your thighs--
your curves and hollows.
Your eyes
tell our story
and our souls lock
eternally satiated
and serene.
My eyes close
​and I await
another dream...

Obsession
Like incessant hunger pangs
thoughts of you do not leave me.
They throb within my being and
gnaw away at my soul--
slowly consuming who I was before.

Untitled and undated
My hope is that this be mutual obsession
that incessantly tugs at my heart at night
and not merely self-obsession that deludes me
and drives me to this state of mind at daylight.
Or could it be that you conjure me up
simply to create in me this endless preoccupation
for what purpose I do not know.
Might you be a sorcerer or
is my soul just unwilling to ever let go?