Don’t fret, my love, o’er passings things
That float off with the breeze
Nor listen to the voice that sings
Of joys that it will seize
Upon my heart lay now your ear
And hear the rhythm strong
Its life is yours, and what you hear
Is love’s unending song
Such little ink-wrought wonders on a page
That spring to life in sunset colors bright
And characters from some forgotten age
Bring dance and music to a quiet night
Your lips against mine
My breathing feels fuller now
My heartbeat quickens
The cool air crystallizes
All around
And words grow still
Their rhythm
Arrested
But with them
The heat
Subsides
Galloping hooves, loud
As my thoughts race ‘round again
Seeking calm pasture
As winter comes so will life’s madness cool
And, gathered ‘round a fire, we can break bread
And with our kin such fantasies unspool
As could not be imagined in one head
Oh, but to sing of days long past
Of stories long-known
And long-forgotten
Oh, but to know them deep
In my heart
To let my soul echo
In remembrance
Once with a question we
Could open doors of truth
Could ask for wisdom and
Receive it, given free
And yet it seems to me
That when I ask today
I hear from those who think themselves so wise
And never those whose minds are broad and deep
Tender, stretching notes
An orchestra playing joy
Giving me sweet peace
For whom do I create?
For you, for me?
For some imagined audience
Quiet as the still night?
I think I create
For that soul
Which cannot survive without
That creation
Is that you?
Someone else?
Or some hidden part of me?
And if it is the last
How can I know him better?
A Poem A Day 