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i walked through an endless forest
by michael d. driscoll

I walked through an endless forest and there I found you. Sitting on a stone configuration of peace and silence, I watched as the sun pierced the canopy of the trees and made its way to your figure. Illuminated in a mesh of reverberated light and blurred majesty I watched as you threw stones into the water below. How could I get close to you, I thought? How could I selfishly pierce this beautiful painting of you amidst all things natural?

I fought with myself and discovered a truth. This truth, brushed off by some, never believed by others, was that you were the beginning and ending of all things radiant. How dare I think I could be a part of that?

You scratched your head and rested your right arm upon your right knee. What were you thinking? What would it take to become your thought, to get inside something so pure, so perfect? How dare I be so selfish?

Butterflies, happy bees and salamanders gazed at your grace and echoed your tranquility. In a moment fit for a painting I dared to enter your space, and there I found open arms and significant worthiness. How was I to repay you?

I began by washing your feet in the stream and massaging an aura I longed to meld into. I questioned myself and considered me intrusive. By your touch, your spirit-invited-touch, sanctified my will. How could I seal the moment?

When the breeze blew I gathered my strength and placed you on a lily pad where you floated among the living and accentuated the Earth so enchanting. Your look of plentiful existence became my desire. I met you that day. I felt you, for the first time, that day.

I knew I could never feel the same.

When I opened my eyes you were laying next to me just where I had left you after having walked through an endless forest. There, upon a stone configuration of peace and silence, I answered my questions, met myself, and fell in love with you.


Curious about everything, Michael plans to do it all. A ruffian by day and a lover by night he's managed to go where no one else has gone. His slight forgetfulness means he is curious about everything and plans to do it all. A ruffian by day and a lover by night he's managed...

more about michael d. driscoll


quiet night
a posthumous poem
by michael d. driscoll
topic: writing
published: 6.18.01

you are diseased
maybe it should be bananna
by michael d. driscoll
topic: writing
published: 11.1.99


charlene benson
9.9.00 @ 5:06p

Michael, it's beautiful and even without reading it I can see all of it when the two of you are together. Can't wait for the ceremony. Congratulations! -char

roger striffler
9.11.00 @ 5:19p

Awwwwwwwwww....... That's SO sweet!And beautiful, not just because it's so well written, but because I can imagine all of the shades of red that RJS must be turning...

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