What do I want my love to be?
Opening,
free as one can be
and
she
will open her arms to me,
singing,
praying to Earth’s wings to fly again.
How bright, my love,
how warm
your body feels
when your lips meet mine…
how slowly we can meet,
how gentle,
how soothing.
He will be all encompassing,
and yet aware of his smallness.
They will be sitting on a rock,
climbing down a tree,
living life fully,
beautifully,
listening as it all swims by…
I choose birds today—
listen,
listen my love
to this mastery of sound.
…
One day
we will sit on a beach,
and the wind will play with your hair,
and I will not care
about how long
or how come
or why now
because thank heavens
my heaven is here,
in my arms,
singing home,
bowing low
to Earth’s truth,
offering palms and songs
I have never heard.
Thank you, my love —
truly.
From this park bench
in the heart of Brooklyn
I don’t thank you for finding me;
I thank you for living.
Go on:
live.
May 16, 2019
