It’s been ages since we have spoken,
Yet I look for no token, sign or symbol
In the delicate filigree work of love,
I must pick out the loose strands
never complaining if they come undone
in the trembling and shaking of my hands.
Have I wondered if you were the fruit tree
growing on my soul’s trellis, and we scented
the entire terrace of the universe? I have many loves
in this becoming-happening, which I’d love to share
with you. And you may know their names too well;
some are mighty leaders, and some are little departed pets.
You know the Zodiac even has lovers in the May-June sky
and should I ask a devotion, that devotion that I never asked
from you, because my love simply has no expectations
There is a wish for every familial love, Mum and Dad,
and all those ancestors who have dawned upon me a silent
wisdom. And a distant past breaking over me as if it must
evoke the first signs of the future. Yes, dreams, hope
and faith are the turrets of my soul and the foundation
as I have always placed my bets on convictions!
They have all guided the resoluteness of my actions.
But my love, in our unspoken distance, I can’t
even conjecture the sacredness of a thought, word or deed
falling foul through a profligate mind that seems
to control you and anyone I seek. Even when I keep
cleaning my windshields, I try to smile in the agony
of the knowledge that it is my eyes that are blindfolded.
I have always known that I am no stirpcultured steed
And I’ve always been racing with firmly stirruped feet
Have you felt the thunder of my boots? My leggings
feel they have such strengthened roots. I have no angst
about the stealth of hiding combatants, making human
shields of the ones I love. You can say that the irony
of my loves is like they are prone to be lost. But I still
don’t weep over the costs! I have laughed even when
I was repulsed at you turning into a hybrid lion with a fish’s tail!
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