Love you’ve yet to know

May you fly with ease
to the next grove of starry trees.
May you put devoted trust
in all that’s pure & just.
May you shine essence bright
while standing in your light.
May you be steadfast,
and true to your core.
May you bless the hearts
of those who think you’re lore.
May you find love–
the love you need to grow.
May you see the shoots
of seeds you’ve sown below.
May you tend them well
with a nourishing flow.
May you embrace in grace
the love you’ve yet to know.

© 2018 Michelle Haas
Iridescent Musings of a Meticulous Mind

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Orbs of Consciousness

Are the dead alive and the living dead?

Do departed souls return to the source of imagination?

When we are orbs of consciousness
hovering above marble & granite stones
will we still smile without lips?
Still cry without eyes?
Still feel energy of living?
Yearn to be in bodies again?

And what of this body?

My fleshling personhood?

How to crucify ambivalence of breathing
somewhere in between living & dying?

How to live… Love… Just be…

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Daunting Chaos

I look at my heart
and see how it’s strived
for living and dying
while being alive.

I notice it’s striving
has been quite contriving
of a daunting chaos
akin to not thriving.

This chaos was born
out of good intentions blind
to nurturing the potential
of my creative mind.

Thus, my heart’s faltered
in courage to be light
as that daunting chaos
eclipsed darkness in my sight.

Such is my blessing
to write this verse —
And such is the agony
to live with this curse.

And so while my mind
writes to live,
my heart is dying
to receive and give
love.

love ii

Thicket

Train’s in the distance

echoing through valley

into these walls.

Pipes flush to street’s sewer

all the rancid mess of sustenance.

Car’s cooling down

from drive to heartmend with espresso.

My will to remain is thin as paper

executing the heads of ghosts.

Hiding under a cryoflesh coat

like a black bird of paradise…

I’m too weak to keep piercing

these splatters & splotches,

these matters & notches…

Aeroplane flies overhead

as I succumb to tingling sensory meridians.

Making magic by myself

 turns my starved stomach–

It’s shrinking, shrinking

like a deflating balloon.

Most of these 30 years–

A striving, a confusion 

wandering…pining…

Train’s in the distance

echo echo echoing 

through myself.

Eyes are heavy

and I’m about dead 

from the somberness of lonesomeness.

Trapped in flesh,

caged in realm of human ignorance.

Wish I felt color, saw softly.

Alas, I am only myself

sighing through thickets of being.

Ghost Glory

Ghost Glory
A rewired reviver.

A complementing driver.

House of the rising Sun

setting when all’s said & done.

Ghost glory rests in peace

As an executrix executes release.

Born into is born to fly

out of bondage, amidst the sky.

It’s inherited.

It’s in her blood.

It’s in her spirit. 

It’s in her love. 
**Iridescent Musings of a Meticulous Mind**

From the Other Side

Lovers unite in glorious grace

by a deep bond grown in pace.

Blessed are they who kiss

before the altar of a wedding’s bliss.

So beautiful be this beginning

of new life & love bound,

shared in courtship’s highs & lows,

in pleasures & pains– plain and profound.

Man & wife embrace in light & dark,

as they complement breaths,

and fuse an endearing spark.

In their hearts, kindles a fire

of wisdom & patience

intertwined to admire.

They test through time love’s devotion

with every aroused emotion.

Meanwhile, across the hills,

to the side of a dell,

a departed couple’s grave 

peacefully dwells.

Their names are finely engraved

on a slab of fine, smooth granite.

United in death, their vestige is the bereaved,

lighting love amongst the planet.

As the new couple’s love latches wedlock’s door,

spirits watch their flesh embrace

from the grave of lovers gone before.

Through sickness, through health,

through poverty, through wealth,

the newly weds shall one day pass, accordingly,

united everlasting if their love is the strength 

of true harmony.

Heartbroken

Please, bare with me.

I’m trying to be light,

but the burden on my heart

keeps me up at night.

I awaken wailing, 

sailing thru midnight tears

from the lack of love

in all my lonesome years.

How much longer will this go on? 

These half-taken breaths without song.

Will pining for life be the death of me?

I’m trying to change…

But I don’t know how to be free

from the confines & obstacles

of what it means to be me.

There’s something I lost

to be able to feel–

Something that never was–

Never experienced real.

Something I overlook 

and often hide.

Something I’m ashamed of

and push to the side.

I don’t know how to live

to be who others expect.

I live who I’ve become:

A heart mentally wrecked.