cause and effect

you breathe, I inhale you;
like the warm rays of sun
beckoning grass covering
dew to rise up and fly back
to the clouds.

you speak, I soak you in;
like the voice of God whispering
down from heaven and altering
hearts to turn from old ways 
for a higher purpose.

you look my way, I dive in;
like a man who has walked the
desert for many years and finally
arrives at a lake filled with the
purest of waters.

you smile, I leap upon your lips;
like an astronaut who spent
far too long in space and has
returned to step foot once more
in his beloved home.

you touch me, I melt;
like an unlit candle waiting
patiently for it’s wick to be
ignited so it may be warmed
by the flame.

you kiss me, I kiss you;
like a babe who can only
mimmick what is seen and
hopes you feel the way I do
when our lips meet.

                               Jaymes Ian Woode

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Love sparks

it happens in a flash, a brief
encounter, two people meeting
on the street, online, a coffee shop,
and they engage in conversation,
talk about the weather and where
they are from, it deepens into what
they do for a living, how they were
raised, what their hopes and dreams
are, they order a second cup, one
without cream and move from the
barstool to a booth, laughing at this
moment, this unexpected invitation
into each other’s life, though brief it
is heartfelt, passionate, and inside
visions of the near future begin to
arise, to come into light with color,
seeing hands being held, soft kisses,
playful moments in the park, with a
dog, and then a wedding, she’s in
white lace, seams adorned with gems,
her wavy hair falling on her shoulders,
as he stares, not afraid but frozen in her
presence, his vows memorized, they
walk the aisle together, into the
parking lot and the horse drawn
carriage, she steps in, he follows, they
embrace, her cup is empty, his still full,
she smiles at his silence as he comes
back to reality, he shivers, his hands
moist, but he knows, without any
doubt, right now, at this very moment,
what he must do, or fear losing
the magic she created in him.

                                          Jaymes Ian Woode

Don’t forget me

what if you forget me, the
sound my voice makes when
i see you after being gone all
day; what if you forget the
length of my arms that wrap
around you or the width of
my smile when I look into
your eyes; what if you forget
the depth of my love and
longing to be near you, to be
included in your life, as you
grow and open your wings;
what if your forget the stories
i told you at night, tucking
you into bed and planting one
last kiss on your cheek; what
if you forget what life is like
with me in it, being there,
helping you through the
tough times that brought
you despair; what if you don’t
remember that you are
everything to me, that which
fills my soul and makes the
sun a happy yellow; please,
please, never forget.

                                 Jaymes Ian Woode

River of goodness

like heated rays beaming
upon ice dripping slowly
down glacial mountainsides,
streaming through a slalom
of white covered aspens
shaking mounted snowflakes
from their branches, dusting the 
thin air like eagles soaring through
layered clouds, calling their mates
whom wait, nestling their young,
cuddling frail bodies, shelter, 
granting pleasurable security
whilst eyeing braided brooks
quietly nourishing pastures seasoned
of off-spring, taking wobbly first
steps amid crowding proud mothers
appreciating nature’s run-off,
sustenance, the life-saving power
of several tiny drops of water;
the importance of compliments.

                                   Jaymes Ian Woode

Life’s life

enlighten me, if you have a moment,
time to spare, there seems to be so
much, time, wasted, unfilled by
meaningless acts purposefully
justified, supported, argued to
the hilt, but really, enlighten me
so as to cause feelings to uprise,
sinking doubt or question, if you
will, please, beg thee I will not,
as I relish in existence, sitting,
waiting, watching passerbys
scoot along, with children, puppies,
hailing lifts to somewhere, meaning-
less, yet I feel the gentle breeze
brushing my sun soaked skin,
cooling my face, layering my
hair, enlightening me to matters
of importance, like skipping stones,
or walking, breathing ever so deep,
inhaling life, what it used to be,
appreciated, so I’ve been told.

                                  Jaymes Ian Woode

soulful concoction

an ounce of sadness,twenty warm tears
rolling off red cheeks, dripping into a 
splash of blended grief, heartache jarred,
seasoned over time, a teaspoon will do,
not a drop more, roomy enough so
to add a lonely sigh, a fiery spice,
and pour, slowly, upon glacially
chilled blocks of life’s artic ways, 
abandoned as they crack open,
cold to hot, like a hug after winter’s 
storm, yet no one’s around, to hold, to
warm sluggish blood, the work is
unfinished, move, step forward,
include sprinkles of passion,
purposeful reason, I will, I will,
toss in a shrig of desire, to float 
above all that aches, a chasm,
then stir, gently with care, shake not, 
avoiding slight releases of nauseating
aromas, be gentle, finishing off
with garnishments of hope, drink,
that I will be remembered, embraced,
and renewed, that love’s arms will 
find me, before the glass runs dry.

                                             Jaymes Ian Woode

Grounding

spring torrent, whips,
thrashing against pane,
wooden rocker, ghostly
old soul moving about,
screaming wind, trapped,
unsure they way to go,
swirling above, playing in
the trees across the street;
oh, how connected we are,
you and me, our existence
similar this night, spinning
about, destination unknown,
we sigh with heaviness and rage,
deep resonating melodies,
high pitches and low,
wailing aloud, lost, voicing
deep moans of frustration,
yet we pause, enough to tease
branches, waving as we pass,
at life, wishing to move, to 
uproot, though we, slapping
wind and I, yearn not to
remain uprooted, but to plant,
quieted and still, embracing
grounded possibilities.

                                        Jaymes Ian Woode