Without You

Without you beauty kills me without warning; it suffocates the atmosphere in a murderous rampage like clouds blocking out the sun severing earth from the arm of the universe. Beauty is the pain of my wound; the emptiness in my womb, it’s a birth suppressed like a deceased child’s laughter.  It’s like the unsung lullaby of a tree ascending in the forest with no one near to witness its graceful voyage, the honesty of its beauty and the splendor of its flight upward. Without beauty who sees the graciousness with which a tree feeds torn pieces of sumptuous sparkling sunshine to its unhinged ravenous shadow between its synchronized fluttering leaves bathed in light and green? Its branches caresses the sky with gentleness and wrestle blue from the grasp of heaven and give the wind direction home. It humbles its nested life without fear at sunset as it merges amicably with earth to rest before the mighty forest and its ancestors; there’s no grief in its descend because its reasoning is heard in the hush of its dissent. Without you the song of the trees remain exiled. Beauty has betrayed me like a kind word that remains unsaid.  Beauty is a regretful word said in anger and violent like the eastern sky without an expected sunrise. 
Without you beauty destroys me without reason as the air with fiery wings scorching the sun. Beauty has become loneliness like a widowed blade of grass on a prairie. Creation has become a sinister villain blanketing my heart with doubt. The world is a sarcophagus trapped in beauty and I’m wrapped inside its cocoon of rotated silk. My unaired blood is cut with a sword, my strength has lost its memory and my forgetfulness is a strong reminder of my constant dying. In beauty, there’s no trepidation in death; there’s no fear in surrendering to love, yet, I defend the virtues of death without your beauty; I give in to the day and the sanctuary of the grave beneath light.  There’s no fear in living in beauty so I yield to life, to its instants and to a dream without end, which has passed in this moment of becoming dust. Beauties’ ever presence is exhausting and wearisome without you. Even the howls of dusk have silenced my voice and executed my reasoning. My soundless ears wail in the color of night like waves on a shore, but are filled with stillness and my eyes evade words influenced by beauty.  Madness now encircles passionate heartbeats that once made time patient and moments flee in a whisper. Without you my heart is a hallow confine with faint worries of tomorrow.  Beauty has become screams of anguish to my soul in which the generosities of touch have no right to be heard. The closed casket over my soul sounds when I see beauty and you’re not near…for without you beauty murders me without mercy and chains me to the sky.

© Soul Journey of David J Findlater OL’D