AB INFRA

O expectant dusk In silent still foretelling With balmy arbor musk And memory indwelling… O ever autumn’s kin The season notwithstanding: Bright holiday within Each gentle, final landing… O lonely time of lighting Exaggerating feeling— Loneliness inviting, And loneliness revealing… O hour of paradox, So oracular, serene… Another laughing mouth that mocks The joy I’ve dared to dream? January 22, 2005 Houston, Texas Age 23 © Talya Sara Emery Sign in to see full entry.

Wakens from the depths this welling, An overgrowth of shadows felling— Phantasmal fears, immune to will, Defeated bow to waters still... November 27, 2004 Houston, Texas Age 23 © Talya Sara Emery Sign in to see full entry.

One day he set me free— And forever… But wintry weather wears upon my face; And wondering when—and if—a waning waits For me before that bell which brings me from below To bask in brilliance bending in a bow Into infinity, I grow Impatient. Did starry, smooth, and sunny skies seclude My soul from learning sorrow’s softly rude Awakening? I found my person unprepared For pain and punctures though I dared To say I’d fair Quite well. In fact, when faced, unfettered by familiarity, With fewer fortunes... Sign in to see full entry.

And now the two will join as one, One flesh the two becoming, Their tracing of that archetype This special day forthcoming… It bears to mind analogies— Of God as husband, us His wife; But truly we reflect His truth In these the roles we play in life… So may this union teach them both Yet more the love of Him Who made the heavens and the earth, Who formed each face and limb, Who gave Himself for all their wrongs And loved them first of all— May always they remember He will answer every call To... Sign in to see full entry.

Now distance comes and pangs of shame are quelled, Reverberations muffled by that hand Which grasps us when our own need to be held, And feet endeavor vainly for dry land… So here I am—not free of grief and guilt, But rescued from the threat of their dominion By knowledge that the blood’s already spilt And that my fate does not rely on my opinion Of my myself in this my epoch of despair For when I see my face I see a whore: My fingers itch to maul it, for I bear The countenance of someone I... Sign in to see full entry.

A cloud that blocked the sun slides on, And leaves outside my window grow In contrast; deeper shadows dawn While bright, reflective greens I know From childhood sparkle once again, As branch-tips tremble in the breeze; Quite suddenly I feel the when Of my existence. Shall I seize The day, or let the days roll by? The more I grasp eternity —the more I know that I will die— More I welcome life’s enormity With open arms, and looking back I marvel at my stunning blindness, Now succumbing to attack... Sign in to see full entry.

Vehicles for air and land and sea abound And artificial light holds back the night, Whilst medicines and cures are daily found, Apparently to rescue us from plight: So here am I in this the “age of reason”— What ligament connects me to the past? We feel ourselves to be in spring-like season, But this great season may well be our last. My intellect believes that you have spoken, The world too great a mystery to ignore; Yet desperately I long for some small token, As you have done reportedly... Sign in to see full entry.

In solitude I prayed that you might guide me; But deep within I yearned for my desire, And circumstances now have nigh decried me, Demanding that I upwardly aspire: For always have I waited for your plan, So loathe to follow earthly aspirations; Yet never was I led toward other than A pleasant and expected destination; But this, the path that now before me lies, Though truly it is no precarious road, Has taken me completely by surprise: This blossom did not spring from seeds I sowed. And yet,... Sign in to see full entry.

winsomely alluring is this tempting invitation to partake of sweet ambrosia on the wings of poetry; thus swept up in embraces of emotional sensation to abandon every thought of this complex reality! it pulls me, I draw near enough to hear the Siren call, and almost see Medusa’s hissing ringlets, but not quite! I breathe the perfumed air that hangs like curtains on the wall and, inebriate, my soul begins, but slowly, to alight… But my conscience cannot leave me thus, poised on the verge of folly—... Sign in to see full entry.