I Dreamt About You Last Night

last night

I dreamt about you last night

We sat across from one another at a wooden picnic table,

romantically weathered with perfect patina

The spring sunshine warming our backs

Surrounded by gardens written in an old English countryside

My mind creating a space just for you

I watched as your eyes danced with excitement,

telling me about your books and writing

Your eyes reminded me of the first time we met.

Sitting across the table,

locked with interest I couldn’t look away

Absorbing with curiosity,

our story had never ended

A comfort waved over me as we were sitting in your perfect place

In a romantic ideal, magical

It wasn’t an ideal or magical for us though because we knew in our hearts it does exist

It was just us

No limit on time

No boundary of any sort

It felt so close, every sense absorbed each moment

Simplistic and beautiful

We held hands and talked

I played with the ring on your finger as you spoke,

the same ring I noticed the first time we met

No end in engagement

No wavering or question

Fluid warmth

We gently kissed

My eyes opened

My lips still pressed from what seemed so real

I dreamt about you last night

I dusted off the story we had started to write,

I tucked this in between the pages

Even if it was only a dream I had about you last night

~Alisa Hutton

Freedom

dancer

Her words walked with bricks and mortar

Posed and stiff

A ballerina without movement

Poetry asked her to dance

Exposed and frightened her heart began to float with each new word

She was in love

Dancing with the poetry  she moved freely

Freedom

~Alisa Hutton

The Break of Dawn

sun-ripple

I walked through the darkness with the faint whispers of her voice chasing me, turning me with panicked blind direction.

Sharp branches brushing against my limbs as a reminder of the isolation

I could feel my heart becoming weary of desolation

As the darkness broke a misty saddened fog set upon me

The heavy damp of the air gently danced on my lips, touches of a weighted nothing

The sound of her faint breathing romantically guiding me closer

A glimmer of what I felt in my soul, a deep passionate pull in a direction of vast open being

Endless valleys of aromatic flowers

A vision of a deep, magnificent sea that dances with the moon and laughs with the stars

A world of endless possibility filled with the sweetness of life

As fatigue and sadness collapse my body helplessly to the ground emptiness pours in to my soul

I raise my head one last time to see the break of dawn

Before me a valley of beautiful flowers

The sun ripples on the glistening waves in the distance

Then with the slightest touch of a hand on my shoulder, I know she who I was looking for was with me all along, she gently whispers in my ear….

~Alisa Hutton

 

Succulent

lips

Cashmere

Close your eyes and imagine the feel, hers

Touch with bated intensity, softly, she wants to be mapped in long curious stroke

One finger at a time, deep, slow

She is the muse and the poet

Paint her canvas, devour whole

She draws you closer, her breath, listen, feel it

Climbing up your neck, her lips gently whisper all you need to know

She is warming a story, anticipatory rhapsodic rhythm, motion, hers and yours

Did you notice the sapphire rug on the floor?

Take off your shoes, she plans to have you there, take you in effortless flow

Transcend

Take her closer to God

Succulent

A word you should know

~Alisa Hutton

Raindrops

raindrops

Sink then rise from the ocean floor

Feel the salt, welcome her home

Fill your spirit and let worries pour

 

She knows of your wake and sleepless nights

Your faith and hope

Effervescent light

 

Float on your back and take it all in

Let the raindrops fall and kiss your skin

Feel the constant, your beating heart

Honor each breath and natures part

 

We are born to laugh, love and feel

Our task in life, simply be real

 

The ocean reminds me in her soothing way

What matters most

My love of today

~Alisa Hutton

While You Wait

train-station

Perhaps there is value and patience learned in showing up for a train that is delayed

Trusting in know it is slowly finding its way

A passenger must question with the same trust and know

When we show up and wait for a train who has clearly derailed

Who only knows departure, never an arrival

Who jumps the tracks by nature and design

As you sit by the rails, stationed in your wait

Think about the train you wish to get on

Is it is simply running late

Or

Will it dangerously arrive

Derailing once more

Taking you out while you wait

In natural stride

~Alisa Hutton

Love That is Kept

love

The simplicity of sharing, connection

We care for another, our relationship, me to you and you to I

In raw essence a desire to love and be loved

Somewhere and somehow comes the trickle of rigid thoughts

Ego

We are being taught

We are being judged

Sized and sorted for worth

Holding on to our inner most thoughts and feelings

Fear the open and free

Interpreted intent other than love for one another

Simplicity strays losing its way

Lost in care, lost in compassion, lost in kindness

Blinded by our own internal sight of protective rules and historical hurt

Human art covered for no other soul to appreciate or adore in its naked and true form

To be loved

Unique color and fine stroke

Blurred

In quiet breathe one comes to understand that love not accepted, seen or understood is the materialized burden another is carrying on their back

Only the heaviness is carried by all of us

For love not given is love not accepted, the two must dance in mutual fall

It is the complexity of our unique human art

The human paradox

In quiet you will find  the boundless love you have to give and a purity of love you need to burst in full color

The inhale and exhale of equal importance to a genuine life

Complimentary existence for happiness

You will learn that love unlived, unsaid and unshared is the root of human rot

You will learn this particular shade is the only color shared on my canvas and yours

The same fears and vulnerabilities

Yet here we sit holding on to our love as if it is some how wrong to give

Sad as I do believe

Love that is kept

Is never felt at all

~Alisa Hutton