I ache to matter,
cherished, needed,
a source of joy,
fountain of sweet laughter,
mine the hand you reach for,
a creature you take comfort in,
the embrace you seek when moved
by love, passion, and desire.
I imagine myself your queen,
our royalty and ever-burgeoning loyalty,
sturdy limbs of a deep-rooted tree,
drawing nourishment from all that is: Here,
sheltering together from inclement weather;
now, tossing ardent gifts, our bright autumn leaves
into a gossamer, star-strewn sphere.
Lover idealized,
dear friend, heart's twin,
how shall I endure?
No longer mine the hand you reach for,
no longer this a creature that comforts,
nor the embrace you seek when moved within.
Adieu love's passion and desire,
our majestic oak forsaken.
YOU ARE READING
Out of this Earth
PoetryMusings on the luminous sometimes whimsical world of human love: Bring your heart to the Garden for a feast of Earthly delights but come prepared for unexpected twists and dark turns along the way.
