God Works in Mysterious Ways.
**
I lay exhausted, I lay divine.
I lay upon a bed, his arm stretched across me,
Mind casts to days behind.
My wife I love, my new-born son
They are my life, my rising sun; I live this lie for them.
With every year of life’s pulse the urge strengthens
Resistance wains,
My world becomes but a bain,
I’m pulled to that deep dark place called myself.
Sunless days of winter, my strength drains like blood from vain,
The church I seek my solace, my sins will repent.
The thought of the mind to the devil sent.
**
I delay the day, unable to evoke the words to say,
Allow the truth to fall from these lying lips of fear.
But soon my feet must press hard upon those stone steps
Enter the house of god
Renounce myself both loud and clear.
He awaits me, fresh with a smile of welcome,
At ease I feel, his presence warms me.
I breathe the musk scented air of aged wooden pews,
Of embroidered drapes with faded colour. The smell of church.
**
He sees a troubled mind without word,
Without the need of speech he reads me,
Absorbs himself to me, I’ve longed this moment.
Yet am I walking from fire into fire.
His youth – 10 years mine I guess,
Can his answers fulfil my questions, his knowledge help quench my desire,
The desire which draws me to man.
As a wasp hive my mind swarms, it fights twix just and unjust,
I must allow this secret the air it needs to free,
Free to enter another’s world.
If trust is my need, then this is my chosen arena,
I must force myself to reveal my hidden seed,
Enable its growth to a strong fruitful tree, which love be the harvest.
More love than I could ever know.
**
As words flow from my numb lips,
Reddened face shows the many years unsaid.
His expression changes little or none
Yet a smile meets me as I raise my eyes to his,
Smile of acceptance, not as expected, the one of vile.
Words passed between as time passes,
With these words I learn of myself, my own me,
A me portrayed by this man, a me I could never see.
His words lift me from my pit of guilt,
A hand reaches to my shoulder, a touch of warmth,
Drains me of my heavy burden.
**
This picture perfect life now runs as if left in a rain storm,
Dripping ink on the floor.
Creating then destroying with words,” I Do” then ” I Can’t”.
He now stands behind, soft words massage my mind,
Strong hands massage my shoulders.
“Loneliness as we stand among loved ones may be the loneliest, loneliness.
If lonely of our true selves then never can we fulfil.”
Hand reaches to my chest,
I take it as I would hold no others hand,
Press hard to my beating heart, he feeds my hunger.
**
We now lay aside, dawn glows through a heavy curtain,
Cloths and collar lay cast on a tidy floor.
My secret now well and truly divulged.
**
Author – Richard Gray
perfectpoetry 