When the Heart Decides

The Email

Meet me for a drink,
he writes,
there is time to spend freely
this starlit night under a Flower Moon,
it's been too long since we last spoke
there are things to say
too long unspoken.

The span of time matters not  

to lovers  who once kissed—
         under the spray of the sea beneath the crimson sky
in the hushed silence when sun meets sea—

two unlikely souls, unveiled
the flash, in your eyes
my desire, clear

perplexing it seems,
in spite of the number of years,
incredible it appears,

this passion
    you inspire
        continues
            to slide
                over my skin
                     smoothly
                        as sizzling wax    flows over the lip of a taper.

my days filled,
full without you,
dreams haunt me
from midnight to dawn
the void  
not definable,
nor unbearable,
only
unforgettable

sends me a'calling under this
Spring moon.  

Pick up, pick up, I plead,
it’s only a drink, a toast we will share
in celebration
of life, which
gives and takes freely,
let us celebrate
our enduring passion
ablaze beneath our polished exteriors.

There was silence,
between then and now
the memories once blurred
now dance beneath bright lights
in the dark behind my eyes
beckoning me
from my deepest sleep
calling me back
to my viaduct of dreams
where I stand

alone

watching the past, the moments we shared,

the first

to the last.  

You never see it coming
'till it's gone
the kiss of the lover
that steals your soul
and leaves a shadow
on the left side of your heart
lyrics heard in a dream you never wrote

My heart, serene
my head adrift
in the unpacking
of moments I buried
and shut away
after our good-byes

through the crack
I see
the door
of Room 619
your back to me
rigid
walking away
slipping out of sight
our final farewell

tomorrows came after

and another

another

until they were measured by seasons

no word came
no  liaison sought
imagining you
were imagining me
overlooking the why of our ending
until the reason for leaving
no longer recalled
and tears
no longer descended

tomorrows came

and another

another

until now.

His voice,
more a calling than a choice

Come to me, come to me.
Now.

to answer his plea
to go him
is where I want to be.

Knowing the risks
a voice in my head
muffled and faint
urges my feet
        to walk whence they came,

to be firm on the ground
leave the vapor of passion
that clouds my reason,
and promises a refreshed life.

The walk into his arms,
to answer his plea
to go to him now
is where I want to be.

Each memory once wrapped
delicately in layers of pink tissue paper,
then stored,
now savagely exposed,
dropped in haste
clothes strewn at our feet
our renewed passion
spent
on the sheets
of the rented bed in
room  619.
 

Do you or don't you follow your heart?  Of course, we always do the right thing, but what if we don't?  My protagonist is struggling with this same choice and since her hired gun (me) is wavering, she asked me to ask you, what would you do, go to your lost lover or walk away?

38 thoughts on “When the Heart Decides

  1. Brenda, with the first Stanza I thought this was about Stella. Then I read your last paragraph about your protagonist and I laughed because I was right. Yay! You have her character down pat. She is so three-dimensional.

    As for what to do, I think we follow our hearts. Whether we agree with our hearts is another story. But deep down, we know what our heart wants. I think Stella knows what hers wants too.

    • Kelly – you have me pegged! Yes, it's Stella writing for me. I do this sometimes when I am struggling, let the character have a say. And you are right,Stella is going to do what she feels is best.

  2. Brenda: Once again our posts are synchronized beautifully! I went back to to "him" so many times, even though it never, ever, ever worked! When I finally didn't go back to him, then my heart was free to find another so much better for me ….

    PS When you visit my post I hope you will take a couple minutes to listen to the song, too. It reminds me of the dilemma and the drama
    your heroine struggles against.

    PPS Super-sexy imagery: this passion
    you inspire
    continues
    to slide
    over my skin
    smoothly
    as sizzling wax flows over the lip of a taper.

    • Linda-I am always amazed where I see themes in post of writers I read. It makes me wonder… I was going for sexy, glad it came through. Coming over now.

  3. beautiful. flowing. lyrical. music. sensual.

    this passion
    you inspire
    continues
    to slide
    over my skin
    smoothly
    as sizzling wax flows over the lip of a taper.

    I love how the words slide down the page…… flow down the page. smoothly….

    Love love love. Xx

  4. Carol Apple

    Beautiful poem. It captures some feelings I know well. I didn't know it was about your protagonist til the end. It's just a beautiful tense poem in its own right. Sometimes these choices are impossible. Someone gets hurt either way. But if you don't follow your heart the main one that gets hurt is you.

    • I am so glad you think so, Carol. I don't really think of myself as a poet. I most mess with it because it's hard for me to write. This one I gave way to the character..

  5. Honey, if following the heart is going to get me such passion, then I say, follow it! Oh, and make me a reservation for room 619! hee hee! Lovely, sensuous words that just flow, Ms. Brenda! This poem is like a much needed aphrodisiac to set off this Friday evening! Grrr! :)

  6. monicastangledweb

    Wow. Reading you poem is like listening to jazz. My favorite line is, "Each memory once wrapped
    delicately in layers of pink tissue paper…" Such an exquisite line. Yes, I too would follow my heart.

    • Monica – I some how suspected you would. You writing reflects a woman who would. I like the way you described, 'like listening to jazz', thanks for that, made my morning.

  7. Love love love these lines: leave the vapor of passion/that clouds my reason/and promises a refreshed life. Beautiful. Sad. True and untrue at once.

    What I continually have to remind myself is this: the head is empowered by the wisdom of the heart. The head is factual, but not wise. It is the heart which takes these isolated bits of information and dances with them until they become something more than their individual parts. It is the heart that transforms them into wisdom.

    • Ms. Cathy-Quiet Gypsy, I quite liked those lines myself. I'm not sure I have the right yet, but their getting closer to describing the momentary madness within the mind and the heart when both are drowning in passion's vapor.

  8. I love the last line…spent on the sheets in room 619. Not that I'd go to a lost love, but I do have dreams about my ex boyfriend quite regularly. The thing about these dreams, though, is that they are not pleasant. In them, I have somehow married him, or I'm stuck with him, or something. I am happiest when I can be with my husband, which I think is really telling. The heart is an interesting thing, as is the brain. Why would I continue to dream about an ex boyfriend I haven't seen in 10 years? So weird.

    • Not sure what to tell you, Laura, about those dreams. I suspect a good percentage of us have them for reasons we never quite reconcile. Tis another one of the mysteries of life we sometimes try to unravel. I like writing about those nooks an crannies, much fodder in the heart.

  9. Brenda, reading this is like you have torn my thoughts and feeling from my heart. But I would still listen to my heart than my head and meet him knowing there will be no tomorrow again with him, even if my heart is raw and once again hurting and missing him. This poem of yours brought tears to my eyes. Are we so foolish or are we wise that we live our lives only listening to our hearts?

    • Rimly – I am not in a position to say yes or no because I have on occasion thrown caution to the wind only to find boxes of tissues strewn at my feet, but there have also been some wonderful memories as well. We live to LIVE. We're here to grown and learn, taste and explore, we keep moving forward until we understand all the pieces of ourselves – at least that is my guess.

  10. melissa

    hmmm…I was just listening to a song, 'I'm caught between goodbye and I love you'… like everybody else, I always always follow my heart in everything. But time and experience would tell me to be more practical these days. I think you have to do a thorough soul searching and ask yourself if it's really love that's driving you to go back to him… or another thing as pity or fear of losing him…

    A good discernment would always leave to a peaceful heart 😉

    • Melissa, truer words were never written, and I think most of the time a person who has traveled these roads will stop and consider… Still, there is nothing quite as strong as the passion shared with the one lost…

  11. June O'Hara

    I don't know how or why, but my comment just got posted as a complete blank. What I said was, your poem is beautifully wrought.. The shimmery words, lovely imagery, smooth flow. I especially love that it's about your protagonist. Brilliant!

    • Many thanks, June, I enjoyed writing it. As far as drafts go, it's not bad. Sorry about the technical glitch, another reader mentioned the same problem.

  12. girlparker

    The imagery and emotion are gorgeous, Brenda!! I love it. As for the question, I think it depends on how much she's been through. Generally speaking, I've found that anytime you try to "recapture" an emotion, even love, it falls flat. Move ahead, sister!

  13. I think it would depend on the person and what is felt in the heart. If it’s love go for it, if its only passion – move on.
    Thanks for visiting my blog.

    • True, Suzy. All matters decided by the person and how their heart decides. And your welcome, and the same to you. Appreciate your coming here…

  14. k~

    “Stella”… it seems I have missed an introduction to worthwhile entity, that has as much passion in her words, as you do 😉 Nicely done!

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