Krsitin Bowers

Forever Again - Poem by Krsitin Bowers

As the moon obscures the sun,
and blackness befalls everyone
there is a presence there that looms
he seems arisen from a tomb.
Frightening as the thought may be,
in his luminous eyes I see; part of me

His soul is twisted deep and wide
and beckons me to sit beside and visit
a once familiar place
all without a single a trace
or scent of ordinary formal grace.

The humans view him circling 'round,
his cloudy trail weaving knots through town
caution me in caring ways
keep distance from gypsy ghost renowned

Hearing this I wonder how, or if, or when they might comprehend
what they ask of me now: how deep the darkness inside me descends.
Or if they have a map, a plan, a way to tame a tortured soul
whose insides feel the same as I; an ending we might never know.

Upon reflection all I see are endless hours of unity
and thinking more I hear the voice
that gently woke me in the morn
it echoed tenderness genuine radiating warmth of a million suns
unlike the frozen apparition
seen by the passers-by for fun.

Thoughtfully gazing
at the hypnotic tangling surrounding mists
slowly enchanting, enveloping me, so I take a softer look within
at what is or isn't at the door
and what or why it came back for

If I myself correctly recall, at one time you had me all
the darkness came only when, old stars appeared twinkling again
whose brightness had your gaze affixed and wondering between, betwixt
indecision I recall is what came along and ruined the ball

What has happened in that time
to shift the the strong tide of the raging sea
who summoned my beloved soul mate
and turned him ghost in front of me?

One day a light surrounded me
and showed what I hadn't seen
that brighter stars that twinkle here are many in this stratosphere

But even those that throw a glare
don't always keep and hold our stare
that through it all, when said and done
there are few whose lights burn on,
and true,
infinitely, infinitely, infinitely for you.

And so I'll take your hand my dear
and climb up in the atmosphere
in the old tree that is our own,
and share your waiting, welcoming home.

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, February 2, 2013

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