Why Do You Love Me?

“Why do you love me?”

Why should I not?

“How much do you love me?”

I love you a lot.

“What is it you love, then?”

Your smile and your eyes,

your musical laughter,

your soft, tender sighs.

Your hair in the moonlight,

Your eyes when they shine

with tears of rejoicing

when I say you’re mine.

Your lips when they kiss me,

your hands when they touch,

your arms when they hold me

too long and too much.

Now tell me you love me.

“You know that I do.”

I want you to say it.

“Yes, I love you too.”

How much do you love me?

“As wide as the sky,

as deep as the ocean,

as loud as a cry,

as hot as the desert,

as pure as the snow.

My darling, I love you.

You know that.

You know.”

 

 

 

Not Out There

It’s not out there!

Don’t go outside,

there’s nothing there to see.

 

Inside your virtual world here

you can think and do and be.

 

It won’t take any work at all for

fortune, love, and fame.

Just hit the buttons really fast

and play your bestest game.

 

Achievement’s just a click away.

Reality’s a bore.

We love you here in 3D land,

now go increase your score!

 

You don’t have to be perfect,

strong and beautiful, or kind.

And you don’t even have to think,

let us immerse your mind.

 

In virtual realities your Screen Name

fills with dread.

Out there you’re weak and helpless now,

and you could end up dead.

 

In here your image flickers

and you get to live again.

Out there is love and friendship,

“Let’s go here!” “Remember when…?”

 

But when they finally bury you

and no one comes to care,

it’s far too late to find out

virtual worlds are not out there.

 

Fill My Hand

Come fill my hand with yours,

my love,

for mine is empty too.

And since we both have

empty hands

I’ll give my hand

to you.

And now let’s fill our eyes,

my love,

with one another’s gaze.

And finally let’s fill

our hearts

with fullness of our days.

One day they’ll say of us,

my love,

in far and distant lands,

‘They changed the world

together

just by filling

empty hands.’

Plunder

Into my life you came,

bold against the rising sun,

your wind-tossed locks alluring,

your bright, bold eyes searing.

 

And I opened my chest to give you the contents

of its heart, and at first you treasured them.

The glorious days of sailing with you

were warm and secure, with clear skies and

wide horizons.

 

But in time, you craved not the warmth of my heart,

preferring the cold hardness of gems and coins.

Not the stable strength of my arms,

but the fickle roll of riches.

 

Turning yourself to seawater,

you slipped from my grasp

and left me no choice, set me adrift

with no anchor, no oar.

 

Under the stars my heart withered.

The sun-kissed days grew dank with brine,

and the raucous racket of overbold gulls

pursued my foundering lifeboat.

 

I dreamed that in a reef of nascent coral

I put the seawater to my lips as if to kiss you

once more,

but therein lied a fatal thirst,

and under a high tide moon,

I spilled it and left it behind.

 

What remains ahead is unknown, uncharted,

yet with a sense of direction and purpose,

of longing fulfilled, a calling realized.

As the gull calls fade, the windsong rises.

 

And I know that in the distance,

a paradise awaits my arrival.

I shield my eyes from the sunlight

dappling the dancing waves,

and sail on to fate’s warm hearth,

alone

but finally

free.

Spring Yet Remains

Time passes, and seasons change.

I’ve walked this road with others who have

now departed, some not of their will, some not

of their power, but all the same,

not here.

It’ s lonelier now, yet no less lovely than

it’s always been.

It’s just that the silences grow deeper

toward the end.

Thoughts grow louder, and

small victories are

celebrated quietly in the heart

with whispered exclamations.

I feel gentle fingertips of a chilling herald wind

brush my cheek, and

smile at the inevitable winter.

And here in the cider- scented,

gathering autumn,

these vibrant colors

of my later years,

glorious before the blackened white

of my return home,

spring yet remains.

Where Will I Find You?

Where will I find you?

“Where will you look?”

Over the mountain.

“Down in the nook.”

Into the valley

“Verdant and lush.”

Find you by sunset.

“Hurry and rush.”

“Where will I find you?”

Where will you look?

“Over the river.”

Down by the brook.

“Into the cottage.”

Through the red door.

“We’ll find each other.

Parting no more.”

Too Old to Dream, Too Young to Know

They say ‘You grow too old to dream’

They say that ‘You’re too young to know’

Yet say  ‘You can do anything.’

So do I stay or do I grow?

For if I am too old to dream

my time here is already done.

And if I am too young to know

then teach me, so the rising sun

will never find me void of thought

as I look at the world through eyes

of what I’ve learned of love and wonder,

cynicism and surprise.

A jaded innocence possesses

all the years I’ve been alive;

still taking people at their word

though most of them are talking jive.

I’ll never get too old to dream.

I’ll never be too young to know.

I’ll keep exploring although it may seem

there’s nowhere left to go.