Heart gone wild

The other day

I went up on the trail

In the woods.

Walked off into a clearing

At the foot of the mountain,

Drawn towards the rock formations,

Covered with moss.

Those are the ancient altars

To perform secret rituals…

I had one in mind — of ownership.

I belong here, with these mountains

Of Western Montana.

Clothes off, a slow dance

With fall colors, all this ambience,

Which owns me.

Aspen leaves in my hair,

Larch needles under my feet;

A piece of moss I hold

In front of my privates, in case

A horny elf gets too excited

Peeking from the brush.

What would I do about him? :)

Foxy is being modest… sometimes.

But, naughty talk aside,

Even when not-so-modest,

All I knew was disappointment.

Where is the man,

Who would love me passionately,

With all his heart?

With reckless abandon?

Words alone don’t count.

Perhaps I need an elf, not a human…

So I’m here —

Offering myself to these woods,

Mountains and rocks.

‘Real’ men didn’t want me anyway,

Or didn’t know how to care, and love.

Self-critical as I am,

I still see a beauty, a dancer,

A Pre-Raphaelite model…

With a very sad face.

I need someone to light it up.

All my life I’ve been trying

To do something, to go out and meet someone,

To win their affection,

To bring the chaos of my life into order.

I tried, and tried, and tried…

Then tried harder, my heart bleeding,

Tears never drying on my face,

Leaving the marks of sorrow.

I will be forty-three next April,

And I had hoped life is finally normal.

I was mistaken.

My allies are the Cat and the mountains…

Magical creatures.

Here, surrounded by wilderness,

I’m warm enough in my Birthday suit.

Accepted.

No promises are made by nature spirits,

Which are not kept, precisely —

But there is something my heart aches for

That even they can’t substitute.

I’m dressed again but in no hurry

To go back down, to off-grid arrangement,

Which has been my Home;

The place of love, and faith, and hope —

All nearly eroded.

My Husband smokes his dope.

“Don’t drift away,” I plead him. In response,

He tells me not to worry.

Well, maybe then I shouldn’t.

He may not notice I was gone — or he won’t care.

I sat down on a mossy rock

To watch Goth music video — whole concert!

Surrounded by the majesty of woods,

The mountain right behind me.

The highway and the world way down below…

A theater like no other — all for me.

How strange it felt,

A time loop to mid-nineties,

My time of great confusion,

And missing out on this —

The magic of emotion, sound and lighting,

Exchanged for fake security, a puff of dust.

But magic has its price…

It may destroy you, even if you’re careful;

It’s riding on the edge

Of an accretion disc of black hole:

You lose your balance — and you’re gone…

So there I was…

Dark silhouettes of fans

Who lift each other up, and dance

In clouds of fog — now gold, now purple.

I love stage lighting… so well done,

In sync with music and the lyrics.

I recognized some of the songs,

Hand-written in my journal,

Arranged in order same as in the album

I used to have…

It’s blood and tears; it’s heart in agony

Up there on stage,

In front of those excited kids.

A figure dressed in black, all-calm demeanor…

Gothic icon.

I have no words — just watch and listen,

My phone screen is the veil

Between two worlds.

What if they merge? I’d like them to.

I’m trying to imagine

That purple fog amongst the trees,

A Gothic chapel with the stage,

Well hidden in the mountains —

That Home I had a Dream about

When I was fifteen, in early nineties.

The place where I belong,

The place of bliss

For tortured souls.

I go back down… still a part of me

Is left up there — the most important part,

Which aches and bleeds…

The heart.

October 17, 2019.