The Forest of Touch

i dreamt in the moonlight of a great forest

and the breeze took me off to that place

one where we’re all blind and nothing was seen

and all I could do was

sense

touch

and feel

there’s fear all around and patches of hope

where love slowly draws us together

where moments of pleasure

abound in the forest

where the trees are so deeply asleep

my fear that so gripped me began melting away

with the wonder
the delight

of waking in the forest

for a time i was conscious of only the breeze

as slowly

it began

to slide through me

it thawed out my fear

it changed how I felt

it was as if in this new world

the only embrace

was that of the wind through my limbs

moonlit

and still

i heard them first

the creatures of this world

gliding

swirling

twirling through their forest

i heard them on the breeze

they saw me awaken

into this dream

and it seems that my fear kept them somewhat at bay

i can hear them, i can feel them as they moved through their world

as they danced as they laughed

as they moved with the breeze through the trees

and still my fear kept them at bay

so i breathed in their air

and I felt the first touch

as the bravest of the creatures came near

a breath over my skin let me know that this world

is so so different than mine

i quivered

i shook

and the first touch was soft

as the hand glided over my skin

and i breathed and sighed and the creature drew close

as a dance long delayed slowly started

something woke

something deep and arcane

and the brave wonderful creature

held me close and so warm

as the fingers, the hands

the hair of the creature

wound over

wound through and inside me

all mixed with the wind and the breeze of this place

a world I could never have imagined

then gone was the creature

and i was left to my self

to marvel and delight in this place

where sight taken away meant touch could be easy

and closeness so intimately chosen

and now I could see with a sense I’d not known

a creature exquisite drew near

so tender so passionate

so warm and so playful

that all of me ached for the breeze to appear

i slowed

i breathed

and i swayed in the moonlight

i could feel a gaze flow over me

it was if being seen was to feel a touch softly

as the light from the moon was drawn over my skin

and then the first touch

that softness and warmth as it trailed slowly over my skin

it moved where i willed without saying a word

as the creature read every sigh

every sway

every little movement

as we danced in our dream in this world

i spent but a moment

i spent a whole lifetime

dancing with creatures in my dream

the forest is silent

unseeing

unfeeling

with pockets of touch

glades of pure pleasure

bringing life back to a forest

long lost in it’s blindness

I'd struggled to write for quite some time now.  This poem came from two places.  One, a friend of mine challenged me to write something sensual some time ago and I could never really get my head around it until two ... I went along to a workshop on touch.  In our communities and society we don't touch much and yet humans are social and touch comes naturally.  And touch is particularly valuable in times of difficulty, it helps us feel connected.

(C) Copyright Luke Visser 2017 (written Feb 2017)

The Hand of a Friend

invisible

with no form

sinking deeper

into the haze

the mist

the depths

fear drawing deeper

senses numbed

no one around

nothing

no one

alone

not just one fear

but many

compounding

make life

bleaker

darker

with even less form

a bump

a landing

finally at rock bottom

a resting place

to curl up and be

forgotten

it feels strangely warm

oddly comforting

to be at the bottom

to be without any way forward

a light breath blows through the mists

making them seem thinner

blueness is there

it’s hues are gentle and deep

blueness reigns

a fresh breeze tousles

what was gray and formless

now has blues and greens

and a yellow brings vibrancy to life

a hand

a hand of a friend

holds the shapelessness of life

that was once vibrant, hued and deep

the hand of a friend

with it’s own blues, greens and yellows

gives form to a shapeless life

remembered

the yellow hurts

it is too bright

too sharp

too painful

but the blues and greens give nurture and care

a gentle dance of colours begin

on the hand of a friend

who dared be a friend

just blues and greens for now

but in time

yellow

orange

red

will be back again too

because of a friend

who dared be a friend

and held out a hand

and blew breath into a life This poem was inspired by a drawing by a friend :) ... it's a wonderful example of how art inspires art in others, so thank you Kayla for your drawing.

(c) Copyright Luke Visser 2016 (written March 2016)

Ghosted Away

gone

totally gone

not a word

just gone

as blackness of the night

takes over

the pain is appalling

pieces of me

torn

from my body heart mind and soul

there’s an emptiness

an aching

i scream

sob

thrown to the winds

they float away

are blown so far

out of reach

and yet i must

for they

are the parts of me

that are you

that are us

i must have them back

or

watch them go

the moments i stop

and watch them float away

on the breeze

the wind

the gale

i see them for what they are

my memories of you

each

carried away

by a ghost

in despair

i chase them

first one

then another

oblivious to me

they flee

some easily caught

but my hands

won’t hold them

the ghosts

that carry you away from me

those ghosts

they are cowards

they flee

never facing me

always moving away

showing no respect

I see only

their backs

taking my memories

moments

and you

so far away from me

one ghost stops

and turns it’s face

sad

pained

tired

it looks at me

with tenderness

tinged perhaps with love

and then

it too is gone

ghosts

tearing you

away from me

but i refuse

you loved me once

and i loved you

it will not be

i sit

and slowly draw

the memories of you back

the pain is excruciating

it wracks my being

but i will have them back

and they will be

the echo of you in my life

friends

precious some

sit with me

and listen

how can an exquisite memory

a moment in time

of great beauty

be ghosted away

so easily

friends listen to me

as i recount my memories

of you

a ghost comes back to me

it is the one

that for a moment before

showed me the love

I knew so well

the sadness on it’s face still there

it’s look pleading and desperate

i will have it back

the memory is mine

slowly

tentatively

with great tenderness

it lays the memory on my heart

and the ghost is gone

i have you back

a part of us is back

and in the darkness

a tiny star is born

deep in the night sky

in time

my night sky will be full of our memories

exquisite

beautiful

painful

poignant

those memories of us

of you

and then one day

a dawn may come

when you and i

are us again

forging new memories

for another night sky

until then

i will draw my ghosts back

all our memories

i will place in the night sky

to remind me

of what life used to be

and can be again

(C) Copyright Luke Visser 2016 (written Jan 2016)