Poetry, Reflection and Stuff

I have been away for a while, off on what I hoped would be a magical vacation bringing me to my favorite guy.

I always wonder, before I see him, if the spell will be broken. If the Life we live in-between our visits will somehow cancel out the power of what connects us. But, this time was sweet and pleasure-filled and easy. It was quite a gift of Love and I am grateful to have received it.

All the rest and relaxation I got was just what I needed. The time away brought me balance and of course, made me thoughtful and I decided to share some of those thoughts with you.

Love is so much and then, so simple.

When I was young I bounced between heady emotions and had my heart broken fairly often. I tend to be very loyal and like long term relationships (I know, I know, how did I remain single?) but I discovered, in my 30's, that what drove me towards Love were my hormones and my lovers' pheromones. Neither helps a girl make good decisions and my chaotic family history gave me an unworkable model. I had no skills for making a good mate choice. So, as a self-preservation tactic, I made the decision to spend my 40's focused on family and work. That decision likely clinched my singlehood, making it a permanent state of being, for this Life.

Oddly enough though, the men that I found during my 30's are still the men I Love best, even though I am no longer biologically induced into liaisons. One my dear friend, the other my sweet Lover. And that fact makes me ponder Love's power to hold us, bind us and carry us forward.

How is it that I still have a full heart after the disappointments, the loneliness, the distance? How does Love do that even when, over the years, I have sworn not to allow it?

I have been a willing witness to the growth of these men who once were callous, no, careless really, with my affections. I listened to them, over the years (and just last week), care for other women and admit I have screamed inside why not care for me??? but, that too has quieted to a barely discernible whisper. I have become, I think, the caretaker of my own Life.

Today, I am generally better able to see people for who they are than I was when younger and (bonus time) I don't mind most people being exactly who they are, even if it doesn't suit me. I don't know how or when I became so accepting of reality but I find it hurts a lot less than when I just kept wishing people and circumstances would be different.

I suppose that could sound like resignation, and I might suspect it was if I wasn't feeling so fine. If I hadn't just come from the arms of a man I Love deeply (and Love being with so completely) and yet, suffered not at all from our parting, I might think that I was kidding myself. And, though I would gladly and without hesitation walk halfway around the world to sit down by his side (thanks for that line, Dave) if he asked, I am not wishing and praying and pacing the floor at night for his desire. Instead, I am simply living the Life I have as if it is something precious.

Maybe I came late to the gift of mortality - an appreciation of Life and Love without conditions, but, I am glad I finally arrived.

When I returned home I discovered that the other man I Love is in a good deal of pain, suffering from economic and relationship downturns. The poem below is for him.


Better Days

I hold for you
tenderness,
like a warm amethyst crystal
in my left palm;
it glows with power
and promises balance and peace.

How can I say what you have been to me?
Little of what I wanted and yet everything
all at once,
once upon a long ago time.
How could I measure the weight of your mouth
on my belly,
speaking to the unborn beauty I carried there?
Impossible to regret what Life brought me
just because I was angered
by what it took in exchange.

Tenderness in my heart and soul
wells up at the sound of your mighty voice,
I will you to feel it across this VOIP connection,
all the while knowing I cannot make right
what has gone wrong in your Life.

I wish it could change everything,
this tenderness
that makes me long to wrap you in my arms,
cradled, like the 2 year-old I chose
instead of you.

I am almost useless to you now,
separated by 850 miles and too many years
of unfulfilled wishes.

I can do no more than stand for you.

I look out across my backyard
listening to the clacking keys of teenage homework
in the background of your pain,
and I know that somehow this far-away Love will help,
must help
and be as sustenance,
a force to hold you up
until a better Love finds you.