Hollowed Breeze

Into your being, Aeolus blew  
an enthusiastic hunger,  
Driving your curious and passionate nature  
To swirl together in an eclectic dance,  
Displaying a prismatic array of imaginative hues,  
a zealous vortex, a colorful blur.  
You were alive in a way very few
Ever were
This was you.  

People said you were a mess,  
a faltered and broken soul, they'd say,  
an albatross strung tight around one's neck,  
a sinking ship, a ball and chain—  
a disaster not yet made.  
With jealous words they chose to speak
but I saw the magic  
they were too blind to see.  
Your chaos was brilliant;  
you were beautiful to me.  

You calmed in my presence  
enough that I could see  
your aura painted with every color known to be.  
And when your eyes met mine,  
I could tell  
they saw beyond my earthly shell.  
And within your essence of spinning hues,  
I saw something else there too:  

a sadness,  
a sadness I swore to love out of you,  
to preserve the magic in your dance.  
So I gave you my loyalty, time and patience
for my love already lived within your essence’s grasp,  
I was determined to heal the tear in your heart,  
to mend without scars all your shattered parts.  

While in my soul's embrace,  
your shadows seemed to wane.  
With time, the darkness did ascend—  
you felt no more pain,  
no heaviness within.  

But as the shadows left your face,  
your cyclonic presence softened its pace.  
With your heart filled  
and your sadness erased,  
I watched your vortex still  
and its colors fade.  
Happy and whole, you felt content  
in the family we created, in the life we lived.  

Feeling ashamed, I began to pull away,  
remorseful, burying the ache I could not explain.  
I was angry with my own heart  
for feeling confused—  
in the absence of your color, I had lost my muse.  
For the murder of inspiration,  
my love stands accused,  
missing all the initial cues  
that the sadness I sought to remove  
was more important to me  
than I ever knew

I understand now what your sadness did—  
it held open the wound
where your magic lived.  
And the pain that wound made,
it gave like a gift,  
stitching new feeling
to every color it bled.  
And with every new color, reality bent,
giving birth to a finale
of colorful sparks
That ignited the beautiful whirlwind of chaos  
I loved with every ounce of my heart