Saturday, February 6, 2016

Things will be different

I would like to dedicate today's post to the memory of my dear departed friends, K and JB, whose presence and absence have been with me, of late; to my true friend J, who lost a close friend recently; and to the future, and all it holds. I don't aim to be a poet, I'm just trying to arrange words here, in some way that makes sense to me. I hope they make some to you.


Things will be different when Love comes home. 
A key in the lock at the back door, the soft rush of air
as the door opens, the gentle drop 
of a pair of shoes onto a worn rug.
Familiar footsteps cross the floor; step over the threshold.
Perhaps I'll wake up...Or, maybe I will sleep on 
through the music, and cast iron 
on the stove, the sizzle and crackle 
of sustenance, dreaming deeply...
Sweet, spicy warmth and the promise of
nourishment will bring to me to my senses.
I remember a smile, with open arms, and a laugh. 
We'll sit together again at the table,
and gaze out the window into the yard,
where there are so many angles, and fences,
so much growing, and so many possibilities.
Love asks, what do you want to do today?
and what can I do for you?
Share this cup with me, bring me a bowl 
to fill with what we've made.
I open my mouth, but there are no words.
Love, I say. Love listens.

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