to the love that should have been
Many old roads,
beaten and pot-holed, I have
traveled in silence unaware.
Year by year I have slowly learned
to listen to my heartbeats.
Your wondrous touch
and heartbeat caught me off guard.
You became a mysterious map
to some curious byways.
I was asked if I feared
disclosing my vulnerabilities.
Not any more, but a friend has told me,
If you get lost, don’t ask for directions.
The Master Poet said that love
emptied of things is the greatest love.
I admit to you my greatest fear:
the loss of the work of our hearts.
You have a marvelous way of seeing.
The curious byways persist just so.
If again our lips should come together,
if our tongues soften and our eyes shimmer,
the old roads would be made smooth again,
and they would be our new way home.
From: After All the Years of Gravity
Unpub. MS p. 13
