Duality

Nothing is really black and white… it tends to bleed together into gray.

 

Duality

Let me pry open your vessel of love and fear.

Will I feel them seep into me as I lay beneath you?

Left with the walls of your vulnerability, bare in front of my eyes.

Gleaming white, pure, free of stain.

 

Open your palms to me.

They are a road map to your veins, to your blood, to your source.

Place them on my forehead so I may receive your communion.

Will you share in my yearning?

 

Where will you take me under the hallucination of our rapture?

Will I rise to meet you on clouds of bliss?

Or will we sink into tangled roots of unquenchable desire?

And why must I know?

~Trista Blouin

Fulfillment

I grew up in the Midwest, so I got to watch my share of powerful thunderstorms rolling across the prairies. So much energy inside those clouds hungering to escape, to move. I sometimes feel that relationships are like that, thus today’s writing…

You: A conduit

Me: The Electrical Storm

You: Desperately Seeking Passion

Me: Yearning for Ground

 

Massive bounded energy,

zinging around inside.

Craving a release into stable fields,

But nothing tall in sight.

 

Statuesque tree of wisdom,

branches sprawling out.

Deeply rooted in the earth

But no movement within its boughs.

 

Over the horizon I roll,

There you stand, alone.

A surge yanks me forward,

I have lost all control.

 

The lightening explodes from me,

Opposites attract.

All your cells flash brightly,

Both our needs are met.

~Trista Blouin

A waterspout I captured two summer ago at Pensacola Beach… also a way of seeking to be grounded

Where Are You Now?

I suspect all mothers (and many adult children) experience the disconnect I wrote about in this poem. Our kids grow up, move away and get involved with their new lives.

Where Are You Now?

 

You turned off the light

when you closed the door behind you.

I shut my eyes as you said

you would not be coming back.

 

My mother-heart knew you had to fly.

You were that age, after all.

I just hoped you wouldn’t fly too near the sun

and fall, beyond my reach.

 

And you flew and made your life.

Our paths cross, of course,

and I joyfully embrace you when we meet.

You have always been my sunshine.

 

But I am tired of waiting and wondering.

And I am tired of not hearing you sing your song of life.

I am lonely with my memories

of how things used to be, between us.

 

What a sweet little girl! I adored you then; I adore you still,

even though you are grown with children of your own.

I remember laughing with you, consoling you,

offering what guidance I had to offer with my mother-love.

 

You do this now with your own.

And that’s the way it’s meant to be.

The circle of life, however, is hardest

when it’s broken because one leaves.

 

Where did you go? It has been a lifetime

since you opened the door and let me in.

It’s been hard to sit in the dark, alone,

And wonder how you are.

 

I hope you are happy.

I hope you are safe.

I hope you think of me

from time to time, with love.