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Waiting For Heather
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Waiting For Heather
A poem to my lost soulmate.
37 year old TEXAN. Desert recluse. Lover of vast space with no people to fuck it up, certain tobacco products, single malt scotch, politics, literature, beautiful women and all animals. My best friend is God. Please drive to the window...
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
|AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (25)
At Church With Amy (Poetry) Visiting Amy's lonesome grave in the desert. [84 words]
Beyond The Realm Of Us (Short Stories) A look into the life of a young writer who is left to live with the ghost of his beloved soulmate who died at the hands of a serial killer. [4,530 words] [Literary Fiction]
Casa Cantina De Loco (Short Stories) Crazy man, his favorite poet, Rainer Maria Rilke, and a sexy young girl... Marshall struggles with the complexity of gaining a new, less experienced lover or exploring the true reason for his post-div... [4,040 words]
Chemo Pastry Party (Short Stories) Miles walks through a dream induced by the drugs of his chemotherapy. [1,096 words]
Evolving To Simplicity; Our Lack Of Human Evolution (Essays) A few thoughts on why our species is incapable of achieving peace at this particular time. My belief that it begins with one and with some insight into where I came from, I know that if I can do it, ... [5,571 words]
Gone And Forgotten (Poetry) Death can only kill the memory. [115 words]
Heather Dream 4,836 (Poetry) Another tease from the ghost of my soulmate. [131 words]
Idee Fixe (Poetry) She's caught in my head. [37 words]
I'm Psychotic And So Is My Friend Episode Six (Short Stories) From a collection of 'episodes' following two lifelong friends; one being obsessive compulsive, the other sadistically maniacal. [1,352 words]
Kirby & I (Poetry) A late night walk in the desert with my cat, Kirby. [117 words]
Kissing My Spanish Woman (Short Stories) The time I kissed a very beautiful, younger girl and found out the value of such a kiss. [1,970 words]
Leaving On (Poetry) Words to family and friends prior to departing for a life of solitude. [208 words]
Life On The Vine (Poetry) A question of one's place and when or if it will ever change. [117 words]
Miles J. Jax, An Early Day In The Life (Short Stories) This section is an early excerpt from my novel. It will hopefully give the reader insight into the calamity of a broken-hearted man with two true loves, Lauren and fishing. [4,566 words]
My First Ann Coulter Poem (Poetry) A poem about how I feel when watching and listening to the thoughts and ideas of the Constitutional Attorney and author, Ann Coulter. [162 words]
Now (Poetry) A poem asking one to acknowledge and be that which one truly is. [36 words] [Mind]
Pueblo (Poetry) Passing through a small West Texas town. [68 words]
Send Me (Poetry) A poem asking God for the reason of my life. [128 words]
September Dusk (Poetry) Reaction to desert sunset. [122 words]
Silence & I (Poetry) Discovery of who's in control in absolute solitude. [20 words]
The British Are Crying! The British Are Crying? (Essays) Editorial on the treatment of the 'detainees' at Camp X-Ray, Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. [1,239 words]
The Life In You (Poetry) - [90 words]
The Only Dream I Have Ever Won (Short Stories) This is actually a part of Chapter 7 of my novel in progress. The main character, Miles, is also the main character in the short story "Without Condition" (which is actually Ch. 2), only this time I ... [2,198 words]
Through The Valley (Poetry) A walk through the valley of darkness. [891 words]
Without Condition (Short Stories) A free-spirited man struggles with his quest for true love as his life of drug addiction and strange women ultimately steer him toward his self-constructed destiny. [8,232 words] [Literary Fiction]
Waiting For Heather
You are a storm in its place over the great waters,
building strength as you slowly approach.
I sense the cold in you
and the bite your winds will bring…
But I have stillness greater than silence,
for I am the earth.
Time is grossly false here.
One season called ‘Waiting’
and only you can spring its leaves.
So I wait in my great solidity,
drinking the water your winds push toward me,
breathing the still air before the stir of your gales,
living in thoughts of your love casting me about again.
I have chosen to be nothing more than
the hand to pull you ashore
and welcome you back home.
It is here, in the vast openness of my earth
that all things evil have died
and goodness rests on a bed of purgatory.
I subsist solely upon the suckle of a desiccated drop of
waiting for you to find me again.
|READER'S REVIEWS (5)
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"This is beautiful." -- Chase, Lake Charles, LA, USA.
"I love this poem! " -- Susan J., San Diego, CA, US.
"Very beautiful, I can feel the pain! View my work at http://stories.com/authors/suzqmg" -- Susan Graham.
"Excellent!" -- Carrie, Queens, NY, USA.
"Great imagery. A fabulous piece of writing - hopeful, sad and conclusive." -- Carla.
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© 2001 Branson Storm
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