til traveling days are done.

i suppose i could shrink & crawl inside that head of yours,

but upon my return, i would fail to describe so accurately

those brilliant colors observed by your eyes alone.

i suppose i could borrow your ears for an hour or two,

but after begrudgingly returning them, my own ears

would selectively remind me of familiar tones.

there are certain things you, and only you can, know so well.

i suppose i could adopt your place in this world for a time,

standing small as all of creation runs to greet my new-coming senses,

but i assume there are words to be created for your experiences,

& quite frankly, i know of no better person for the job than you.

today i looked in the mirror and had a novel thought:

perhaps my favorite poet or painter or musician is in a village right now

thousands and thousands of miles away

gazing at their own reflection,

wondering if their art will ever escape its primitive cage.

perhaps they know that their visions will remain

locked, sealed, kept from eager hearts such as mine

as long as tongues vary & translators don’t do their jobs

quite as well as we hope.

there is a great false dichotomy that exists: are you a lover or a fighter?

true lovers are the greatest fighters the world has to offer.

love requires strategy, requires strength. it demands perseverance. it needs fight songs for encouragement. it wins with grace and joy. it loses battles humbly, but finds hope in future reconciliation. it cannot exist without courage.

love acknowledges the presence of an enemy that seeks to destroy it.

love that does not fight is not love at all.

if only you knew how very, very much i wanted to say right now.

[to be continued...]

in the beginning…

there was no such thing as goodbye.

there is a hammock outside my window that is purple [or maybe navy, or perhaps, black] & white that i have not rested in. it sits under a majestic tree with a branch just out of reach. during the morning hours, the sun and birds collaborate to wake me from my sleep. i feel sweet, golden warmth and hear notes that tell of wonder just a few steps away.

despite such beautiful argumentation, i have not ventured to this familiar place. that hammock looks big enough for two, and sometimes things are just meant to be shared upon discovery. sometimes beauty is meant to be experienced from some short distance away. this scene is meant to be transcendent. while reality may consist of bugs & rips & litter & death, this unvisited spot will have no such things—at least, until i am ready to discover it with you.

i hope my children have a treehouse.

& i couldn’t tell you the exact hour, but there is a time of day when the world becomes drenched in gold & eyes sparkle with joy.

this is my favorite time of day.

read this and see if it all makes sense now.