*
there are those of us
who feel life’s Beauty
so Deeply
it is painful
*
and Pain so completely
there is Beauty
in the Depth
of Feeling
*
drives some to Madness
some to a Life
lived in Fear
others
to Breathe
a Generosity of Heart
come what may
*
Photograph by Nick Zungoli
*
You Say
you don’t belong
here anymore
*
weary of a world
changing so fast
your Spirit
flails
in the loneliness
of your words
*
I pause
*
the Origin of my life,
I never imagined
you Elsewhere
than part of it
Now
unwelcome
and inevitable
the notion of your absence
prods me
*
I see
a Dimming
momentary
for the planet
but Permanent in
my chambers,
the ones built
with Your Blood
*
My mother, Marilyn Cashman Nahas is 83
Very lucky to still have her in my life.
*
Buried in the hidden confines
of my Mind
You Reside
your throne, so Dark
under years of antiquated
Luster
*
You sit, pensive,
always pensive,
even when you smile
*
It is eternally Dusk
in your Chamber
but never cold
*
Kindly you invite me in
with a Nod
Kindly too, you offer me a seat,
*
but I cannot sit,
instead, I wait,
wait for your question,
the one that will allow
me to tell you
just how much I love you
Here, in this Chamber
and beyond
*
My King,
of long ago,
My Heart
*
Painting By George Rouault
The Old King
I could wander, pacing
the places I walked before,
knowing them again and for the first time
I could call your name,
hear it slip off my tongue,
whisper through grasses
I could forever search your scent
that I would find here then there
Instead, I sit by the quiet of rippling water
in which I see myself smiling
I kicked off my shoes
which sank to the bottom
of the blueness before me, barefoot,
I wander with my spirit
Ceased measuring my life
in kilometers, stopped tracing
my well being with changing backdrops
The only one now is the sun greeting me
and taking leave, over this great expanse
of ever-changing liquid
My heart stands still, content
to know itself, and you,
you are everywhere, in everything
Photograph by Nick Zungoli