TheRealTamara

Losing you

Losing you as you slowly 
Lose yourself is like that
Frantic feeling when you 
Can't find your keys, you
Rummage but your breath
Has stopped, why's this
Happening? What's wrong
With me that I can't hold
Onto- it is, of course, more 
Profound than missing 
Keys or anything from this
Woman's purse, watching
Helplessly as your mind 
Wanders so far from any
Reality but the one you trip
Over and imagine, the one
That upsets or amuses you.
You are here and you are 
Lost, that's where this stops
Being like my keys which I 
Inevitably find. Losing you
Is unlike any other loss. Of
Course it's not like the keys.

A knotted landscape

Trees are upright, righteous,
Long-lived and interesting, 
Rough-barked and aged, yet
They have no memory. It's 
Mapped out on the surface
Across their skin. Obvious 
To us if we want to explore
And know. Or we can just
Enjoy the beauty of their
Stories, the art, the design

Life

Just being able to say, to 
Acknowledge those clouds
What a beautiful sky! I say,
Exclaiming to myself, but
Also claiming its calm yet
Torrid outlines for my own
This beautiful sky, it's mine

Not quite daylight

That vigilant protective moon
Isn't shining in this morning's 
Sky. Today it is a darker 6a.m. 
Than yesterday's. Why? Why do
I care? I am not concerned, but 
I miss the brightness of the orb.
I am not foretelling a harder day
Prediction is not in my bag of
Tricks. At least not on this day.
Today, I was searching for its
Light but saw only grey skies.

Daybreak 6 a.m.

The moon is still up at 6 a.m.
I am impressed. I expected it
To go into hiding as it expected
The sunrise. No, it is a watchful 
And diligent guardian of the sky.
It will not rest until it hands its
Duties over to the dawning day.
Now, even with the daylight, it's 
Hovering at the top of my sky

What do we know

Really knowing who we are
What we know when we say
We know something, do we
Mean we understand it fully
Or that we get it, that we feel
It in spirit or in the real and 
Actual? are we deluded into
Believing we know what we
Truly don't because, some
Things are beyond, I guess, 
Understanding. That means
We don't know, you know?

Mourning

I will mourn you when
You're gone, and those
Rites of your passing 
Allow my grief out from
The volcano the furnace
The seismic pressure
I am holding together
While you live each day
As less of who you are
Diminished, diminishing 
Lost but still here, still
Mine, not fully mine, and
Not always lost. Still
Funny, silly, bitter, and 
Yes, still sweet. My love
No longer the helpmate,
The lover, the champion
Of our lives. Still lost. I
Will mourn you now and
Then. I will mourn. Now

[Originally written May 27, 2024, but posted in November 2024]

Yes, I hear a love song in this tune

I say love, and I am sincere
Sincere in my deep, soft love
But what I mean is tenderness
That's a whole new feeling. No
Edges, so it's smoother. It's a
Bit sweeter, but no, it is not at
All cloying. Tenderness is like
Velvet not silky or slick but it
Too is deep and soft. It too is
Sincere and heartfelt. Felt in
The heart, that's where love
Lives, at least metaphorically 
Love and tenderness inhabit
All of me, engage every sense. 
My face, it relaxes, eases into
A smile, a sigh of tenderness
Sincere as my love is sincere
Deep as my love is deep and
Soft as the sigh is soft. I say
Love yet tenderness is what
Sings to me, deeply, sweetly

Eye-to-Eye

It's what I saw and
Perhaps you did too
We may have that in
Common, a shared
Vision, and a mutual 
Sighting. Something
Caught our eye and
Indelibly our focus
Was elevated. It all
Came clear so now
We own that clarity
Together. Brighter
And sharper than if
I alone gazed, saw
And remembered