Lugh’s Garden

You hold me, gently,
Like a small bird, trembling
In your hand, fearing to be
Crushed, fearing release,
And the loss of your warmth.

You tease me, laughing
At my indecision, a tiger cub,
Torn between desire and nature,
Wanting to play,
Needing to be bold.

You tell me stories,
Fairy tales, fanning the flames
Of my passion, fueling the fire
That burns beneath the surface,
Ready to rage.

I reach out, into the mist,
Grasping at ethereal forms,
Words, wafted on the wind,
Promises in paisley teardrops,
Falling through my fingers, like the dew

We dream our together-dreams,
Seeking in the shadows,
That which can only exist
Behind eyes, shut against the light,
Wanting only to be held, gently.

I am the Wind,
Unseen partner,
Dancing with the clouds,
Ruffler of hair, and
Breath of the world.
I put wrinkles on oceans,
And smooth the tracks of man,
From sand and snow,
I whisper to lovers,
Carrying messages between them,
And in the Spring,
I make love to the trees.

I am the Sea,
Lifeblood of the Mother,
And the womb of life,
I nurture storms, crush continents,
And feed the world.
My children hide the sun,
And wash the sins of man,
From the land.
I keep their secrets within me,
And carry their lonely souls
From heart ache to heart ache.

I am the sand,
Once noble as a mountain,
Now tossed by wind and sea,
Filling the hollow places
And scars upon the Earth.
I am the voice of humility,
The fate of the tallest peaks,
Falling through fingers, like time,
Like love, untended.

Oak-sifted moonlight,
Patterns on the forest floor,
Shadows to hide in,
No gentle touch to warm me,
Sitting lonely in the night.

Love is the warmth you feel
Next to you in the morning,
When you wake.
Love is the anticipation,
The longing to be home, and in the
Arms of the one you love.

Love is the need to give,
The desire to empty your soul
Of riches, into the
Coffers of your loved one.
Love is the way your muscles tense
And the way the rhythm of your body
Begins, when you notice her scent.

Love is the way time stands still,
And today stretches into forever,
When you and your love
Are together.
Love is the peace that comes with
Falling asleep in her arms.

But for some, love is a dream,
A hopeless ideal, held on to
Out of desperation,
Against the pain of loneliness.
For some, love is the knowledge
That each night will be the same,
Cold and empty, quiet and alone.

For some, love is just a gift,
Held in a pose of supplication,
Reaching out to arms that will
Never return the embrace,
And the knowledge that
The joy of a nibbling kiss
Will never be felt, nor the coy smile
That follows, will ever be seen.

For some, love is what another
Will enjoy, and another will feel,
In the arms you so want to know.
For some, love is an agony.

Sometimes, the feelings
Are too strong for simple words,
Like my feelings now,
To know that my need for her,
Made me hurt the one I love.