Fragrance of the heart

fragrance of the heart

I behold with these eyes
the softness of beauty
I yearn to touch
life
the fragrance
of the heart
which has been torn away
from me.
A ghost
reaching
with wonder
how you rest before me
torn away from your own earthen bed,
how long must it be before you wither and fade?
I behold with these eyes
the vibrancy that still catches with the light
beyond this shadow
I long to caress
with wonder
if only I could
plant you within this heart
to retain your precious life
and grant back to me
the gentle tones,
growing in strength
of substance
to my being.

– April Higney

A few days ago I was sent by Juan Carlos Hernandez the poem Passion within written by April Higney to illustrate one of his photos. It was strange as I had not heard of either of them before and Passion within came unbidden out of the blue and yet it captured my mood at the time.

So struck was I that not only did I post Passion within on this blog, I wrote of the incident itself. Synchronicity was becoming the norm. [see Communication with the Soul of the World]

Today I was at Mind Body Spirit hosted by Eden People at Holy Trinity Church in Guildford. I was discussing what had happened, on my way home I find April Higney has sent me Fragrance of the heart, another poem she has written to illustrate a picture by Juan Carlos Hernandez.

For more of the poetry of April Higney, please visit her blog Betweenhearts75.

Unopened Book

the book

In dizzying mind, she made her way into an empty room.
A large book centered upon the floor.
Tired footsteps clicking forward, she sits upon a carpet of dust,
and stares in wonder, how it came to be, the only thing left behind.
Beautifully bound, and pages held within a metal lock,
time scattered with rust.

The red cover, reflecting upon her fair skin,
casting a blushed appearance, glowing above her deep eyes, displaying thought.
Two tall large windows taking in the rays of light that passed above and beneath clouds,
shimmering over her hair, and along her dress, that held the same golden hue.
She reached up to touch the necklace hanging gently upon her neck,
a pendant, a key, some connection maybe,
to this book, and portions of life,
her heart has sought.

Could it tell all, in a tale of love,
in the deepest of passions, and each dream shared,
hand in hand, from the waking hours of morning, to the pleasures shared in the night,
falling closely into hearts touching in each sunset, could it tell all, in lengthy detail?
Or could it be, the epiphany, of a quest, saddened in broken heart,
where so many tears wash out the sunlight in once brightened eyes,
that have grown weary of an unknown place,
where the heart has lost its sight?

Questions perhaps, but not really wanting to be known,
this book left alone,
to this empty room,
granting reason to the wonder of it all,
best left to each moment,
given to this life,
lived within,
believed within,
between each break, in the heart of each page,
or folded within the arms of love lasting forever,
best known,
read between souls, within eyes.

The book,
still remaining upon the floor, in a carpet of dust.
Her pendant, this key, resting upon the surface, but such a tale, in the depth of her soul.
Years later, untouched, unread, this life, she lived,
with open heart, in all of its moments, within each break, and love lasting.
Windows taking in rays of light, passing above and beneath clouds.
Beautifully bound, covered in red, and a metal lock,
time scattered with rust.

– April Higney

Until a few days ago I had not heard of April Higney, until that is Juan Carlos Hernandez sent me a copy of Passion within. I had not heard of him either.

April Higney is an amazing poet. She combines her poetry with her artwork and it is the combination of the two that works.

Unopened Book taken from her blog.

Also see

Passion within

Deciding on the Destinies of Others

Passion within

And It's Supposed To Be Love by Juan Carlos Hernandez

You,

in the idea of love,
as contemplated of the mind.
You,
the one,
to which I placed the unknowing heart into,
brought me here, and left me behind.

This place,
an empty hall,
filled with rooms,
you have closed,
once shared.
This space,
shadowing the heart of me,
my face,
covering the tears,
once cared.

I,
in the idea of love,
have discovered of me,
more to the passion within,
this heart, still reflecting a light,
that pushes me forth,
and pulls me,
contemplated of the heart,
more directed,
even in blindness,
because it is through this heart,
I can truly see.

Passion,
fills this space,
that seemed otherwise empty,
now occupied by all that I am,
persecuted by a past,
yet preceding a future,
a place of meaningful expectations,
where this heart,
is destined,
in all of passions,
to where it is meant to be.

– April Higney

I was sat feeling very miserable this evening having not seen my lovely friend Sian for some weeks and having learnt this afternoon she was still poorly, when a guy called Juan Carlos Hernandez, music lover and jazz photographer, sent me out of the blue this beautiful poem by April Higney, which she had just written inspired by his photo And It’s Supposed To Be Love, taken by Juan Carlos Hernandez of a woman who is very special to him and that was the last photo he took of her before …

I had just dropped off this afternoon to be picked up by Sian the very last photos I took of her before …

No matter how hard I tried, no matter how eloquent a writer I am told I am, I could not put into words how I am feeling as this beautiful poetry does.

How do I explain this? I do not know the guy, never met him, never even heard of him.

I do not explain. I do not even try to explain. The best I can offer is synchronicity.

April Higney had written Passion within without knowing anything of the background to the photo. Neither know me or my background.

Juan Carlos Hernandez had posted the photo and poem on his blog.

April Higney has posted the poem and photo on her blog with a little of the background to it being written.

I would highly recommend Betweenhearts75, the blog of April Higney, where you will find yet more of her beautiful prose and poetry, each one illustrated by an equally beautiful work of art.

For my lovely friend Sian.

Also see

The Zahir