The Visitant Part I


© Gemma Holliday



You visited me again last night,
You held me in your arms.
We talked of life.
We talked of love.
We spoke of all our dreams.
And once again
I wondered,
What your name could be,
The reason
That I thus was blessed,
Your love seeming held by me
The love that keeps me going,
The love that keeps me whole.
The love that I do treasure,
Above all else, including gold.
And once again
I ask you,
Reveal to me your name.
Tell me
Are you some figment
Of an overactive brain.
An enigmatic smile
You give me,
My body you do hold
Patience,
You do caution,
For one day
All will be told.
Then
I know itís almost over,
For I have been here before.
Once again you kiss me,
Before you start to fade.
Again
You are leaving me
A vacant space in my dreams
I wake alone and empty,
A memory all you leave.
And once again
I question,
Could this all be real?
Are you but an illusion
Or the other part of my soul?



The Visitant Part II


© Gemma Holliday



My heart is encased in stone
And scarred by a multitude of tiny marks
Sculptured by pain and withered to a husk
It stands as a monument to fallen hope.
Yet inside its stone sarcophagus agostic* to its true core
My heart is pure and unmarred by the passage of time
And waiting.
Waiting for your gentle touch to melt the stone away
But once again I question,
Will the walls ever truly fall?
Will I ever find you and fully let you in?
Is there such a soul that I can trust with my heart?
But deep inside I know there are answers
I know that you are out there,
Else why do you walk in my dreams?
Why do I feel the ghost of your touch when I am most down?
When I am most alone why do I feel your comforting presence?
If not for some quantum mechanical quirk of the universe,
Dictating no matter where we are,
Our souls know the other exists,
Even when our bodies and minds are not as convinced.
So as I sleep this eve, I will rest assured in my knowledge,
You are always near,
No matter how far from me you may be.

* agostic is a word that not too many people may have heard, it is derived from the Greek agos, which can be found in the Iliad. This word is thought to mean held close to as it is used in the context of holding a shield close to the body, however, this word has never been used anywhere else. Agostic came from the search for a way to describe a newly discovered chemical interaction and is again used to mean held close.



The Visitant Part III


© Gemma Holliday



The caress of your hand reminds me of my dreams
I am in that twilight between waking and sleep
Still unable to distinguish fantasy from reality
Yet there is something subtly different this time.
I know I am dreaming and yet I am not
I can't place the difference
But I know I am not so unsure as before
There is a feeling of contentment
One of satisfaction and of joy
I no longer feel the need to question.
No longer need to know you as I did once before
I know that you exist and are near me
If only in my dreams
And that is enough, for now.
I know you are my steady rock
That keeps me anchored 'gainst the rapids of life
Yet still hidden beneath the swells.
You are a constant yet to be found.
But I no longer question,
You are my visitant
And no less real than I.





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