Pain = Bliss. Poetry.

Pain = Bliss. Poetry.

Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference.

Sometimes. :) I just had some of that. I wrote this sort of poem, like I used to do back in the day when I processed that way (25 years ago!). It’s not very polished.

I could fall into forever
Endless turns and flips of
lazy stretching for the updraft
buoyed by the fire in my heart.
I am cradled, lifted, confident
soaring, wingless, free
Carried forward — and I know
I cannot fail.
You hold my soul in such a way
that I am fearless, knowing
you will always catch me
(even when I’m sure you won’t).

I don’t know what you’ve done to me
but it makes me more, somehow.
Depths I’d never pondered
Heights I’d never dreamed
and everything building
adding to the whole.
I’ve seen impossible things.
Focus and perspective penetrate
Emotion clamors and calms and
washes over me.
Full body sensation overload.
You gave me purpose when I was lost,
and hope, always hope.
Everything hurts so much
and so beautifully
I lack the words.

And as I sink, I soar.
As I fall, I fly.
You are always there
even when you are most far away.
My heart burns
Its fire consumes pain
delivers bliss
I find you shining,
at me.

Yeah, not as good as I used to be. lol Here’s an old one I wrote for him that’s way better.

Arcane Secrets

So it’s raining?

Let’s build a bonfire
and keep each other warm

Have a conversation
and peek at the secrets
leaping in the sparks.

Raindrops on your tongue
splash enigmas
and the flashing flames
reveal at last
the spectral mystery
of the fall of water.

All is wet
and glistens.
All is warm
and steams.
Your eyes count the subtleties
as the arcane intermingling of the elements
infuses our conversation
with eloquence unexpected.

An aeon within a season —
knowledge, conversation
my angel leads the dance.
Secret lover,
I am a ballerina in your arms.

A moment within a span —
you see through me
the heart and soul of my being.
Water of my water
Fire of my fire
Passion of my heart.

An end within a beginning —
death of my past
birth of my future
alchemical understanding
and transmutation
of the many to the one.

We mingle and we merge;
we become each other.
We rise with the sparks
and fall with the rain;
catching my hand
you gently set my feet
back upon the earth.
Oh. . . it’s raining again.

Sheta Kaey About Sheta Kaey

I teach people to perceive, communicate, and work with spirits. Beyond that, I'm kinda normal.

Sometimes I write things. Sometimes I edit things. Sometimes, people even see them.


  1. I have to say that you write very nice poetry. :)

  2. You’re welcome! ^_^

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