Thursday, August 26, 2010


Lights from the home on a hill
pierce the still lake water
in jeweled spears. Two stars
dot the immense sky. We hold
hands, talk about a sunny
day behind us. Two days later
the clouds lift and picks me
up. I have sunk to the depths
of despair, feared drowning and
breathed again. You are there
waiting - arms outstretched,
harboring me, my spiraling
hopelessness, my magnificent
inertia to change.
The sun warms
my spirits, your smile and
touch. I start to uncoil
hesitantly fearing I
may be visited by pain.
I am learning your alphabet
of love so unlike my own. In
the early days we spoke the
same language - the relationship
argot of our time. Marriage
morphs the meaning of familiar
words in ways that only
you and I will understand.
We want to understand and
be understood without
effort as a measure of
our love. Often we fail.
Lying on the dock
wrapped in your arms, silence
broken by the lapping of water
against smooth, shiny rocks -
we learn our first words.
We teach each other - meet
in puzzlement sometimes.
Really ? Is that what that
means ? Then there is the
compendium of gesture
and touch. You signal affection
I read indifference. I try
love and you hear disappointment
or frustration.
We drift apart buffeted
by head winds of misunderstanding.
At opposite shores we consider
the distance between us.
I crave your touch but
fear to reach out. At dusk,
you turn to me - offering peace
ask for time and patience.
The neighbors are enjoying a
showing of Mama Mia! We join
them - we expand our vocabulary
to become a couple among many
others. Our child makes us one
of other families. They smile
at us, stop to ask if they can
take pictures of us. We smile
back, ask where they are from,
buy coffee, wild blueberry
scones and chat with them about their
day. In parting, they leave
us with words to add to our
lexicon - words we may shape
to be our own. The night after
may be just as dark, daybreak
bleaker and yet in time clouds
do part, you hold me in your arms
call me your girl as we dance
slowly near the kitchen sink.
In time, the happy moments will
stand out like jewels spearing
the dark water - the water itself
or its darkness hold not much meaning.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

One word. Wow!