Love, have I always known you?
Love, will I ever own you?
Love, will we ever meet again?
When was the promise made
forgotten, but still obeyed
–a vow to forever love again?

You’re a dream in my mind
from the whispering of time,
A call from a sad memory.
While I answer your prayer
are you listening somewhere and waiting for me
While I look into every face
And search for you everyplace
But stumble on strangers on the way?
Love, have you always been there?
Love, can you lead me to there?
Love, you’re eternity away.
You’re a dream in my mind
from the whispering of time
A call from a sad memory.
While I answer your prayer
Are you listening somewhere
And waiting for me?
My love, have I always known you?
Love, will I ever own you?
Love, I’ll return, this time to stay.



You, palpable.

You, tactile, visual.

You before breakfast taking pleasure from my body.

I would recognize you anywhere, even with the gathering of time.

If I had no eyes, I would know you by Braille,

ever lucid on my lids.

I could feel you with no hands,

hear you with no ears, sense you by the aura you emanate.

The  corona that crowns you embraces and includes me.                              

By that alone,  I would know that you are… 

the silence behind your words,

the seer behind your eyes.

You are a magnetic force, not by your deeds–yes or no;

And I am a distant star destined to circle you from afar.



The night covets you,

folds around you like a quilt

tucking you in,

the stars lying beneath you like I do. 

We press closer, touching timelessness–
totally, an interim of entirety

whole unto itself, needing nothing else.
Absolute with perfection

You merge with the sky.

It takes you in, absorbs you so completely,

every time I whisper your name

another star –the brightest star appears

that others may see you,

know you as I do

and claim you as their own.



Coming soon – The upcoming release of Ronaye’s  book by British publisher in London, England; to be available on Amazon.


                 …with a broken wing
Expressions of
the Human Spirit

poems by Ronaye Hudyma


Whether contemporary, classic, or peppered with Elizabethan eloquence, this profound ensemble of 130 poems is not stationary. They move as if conducted with a maestro’s baton –fluid between the euphoria of life and love, the drama, the anguish of death and loss, with every nuance of human emotion spilling upon the pages.

They are poignant words written with the transparency of youth, gathering maturity and experience, evolving to wisdom, into the spiritual realm.

This is not just poetry. There are a million stories in each poem. Once for each of us. From the teenager discovering their individuality, the young adult challenged by relationships and the world around them, to the Elder denizens of Earth, who cherish their memories as veterans of life, this is a book to be read and reread, a keepsake to console, embrace and affirm your recognition of the truth within yourself that is already there.




More than anything,

I want to remember the tender things

in a renaissance of every memory I have of you…

barefoot on Santa Monica beach under a canopy of stars

against a backdrop of an ocean song playing…

the waves crashing upon the shore

the echos of our sighs rising to a crescendo

as we made love draped in darkness

and forbade the sun to rise.

After  coming home…how I defied submitting to sleep

fearing I’d lose you–

how sacrilegious to dream of someone else– 

then the joy of opening my eyes and seeing you beside me,

feeling the comfort of your warmth next to mine;

when, still drowsy in the dark, 

the night assured me you were mine for a few hours more.

You need no sight, sound or touch to define you.

I sensed you, not perceived you,

knew you by your presence–

A creation complete when God found expression through you.

And then the lingering hangover of every heartbreak

from too many bad choices, too many regrets–

that holds us, binds us together in bondage

with invisible strings;

and forever will, until time overtakes us,

’til we take our last breath,

and slip back to the source from whence we came.


I don’t hear no whistles. I don’t hear no bells.

Baby, we just keep our hearts to ourselves.

No falling, no crawling. I’m no puppet

’cause there ain’t no strings.

It ain’t the real thing. It ain’t flying ‘cause it don’t have wings.

My head is on my shoulders, feet on the ground.

Don’t get as high, but it ain’t so far down.

No problems. We solve them. Not a thing’s gone wrong.

We just go on.

We do the right thing and keep on cruising along.

It ain’t the real thing. It ain’t the real thing.

So we can’t call it love.

It ain’t the real thing pulling on my heart strings.

But it’s a good thing and that’s good enough.

Don’t have the heartaches, don’t get uptight.

It don’t have the kick but I don’t get the bite.

Don’t knock it, don’t stop it. No need to rock the boat

to stay afloat.

It’s a sure thing. It don’t need fixing if it don’t get broke.

Don’t knock it. Don’t rock it. This ain’t no sinking ship. This is it.

It ain’t the real thing but close as we’re going to get.

It ain’t the real thing but it don’t get better than this.

click here to listen to the song