Reflections

The patience that she shows me every day
Is worth more than a thousand lesser things
And more than I can hope I can repay;
More than a decorated rap star's blings,
More than a diamond field untapped and full,
More than a field untilled and rich and dark,
More than a herd of pure Merino wool,
More than the animals on Noah's ark.
No, all that I can do for thanks is to
By slow degrees attempt to mirror her
To do the things she wishes me to do
And to refrain from what she would prefer
I should avoid. And so I try to show
The same to her that I from her well know.

18xx

The calm contentment of the railroad tracks
Flowing into the distance and horizon
Brings to my soul just what the highway lacks
As long as I can keep my longing eyes on
The middle distance, where the two straight lines
Seem to conjoin, although they cannot so:
The effortless eternity that signs
The future and the past in just one go.
For train tracks map the time in endless space
Forever stretching forward, backward, out
Into the possibility of grace
Through wonder, and despite worry and doubt.
I find myself exploring with my mind
The curves and straights no engineers designed.

Eat

A city unexplored is like a stew
Uneaten. Sure, it may be safer so
But if you do not try it you can't know
And 'til you venture to, it will haunt you.
For it might be the best, if you but knew,
And you might weep to know what you let go
Unnoticed by. Oh, let such thoughts but grow,
And do what you have always wanted to:
Taste, try, and test! Be resolute to seek
The hidden and obscure delights it bears!
Be not afraid that it will suck or reek
But throw away those old, and worn-out, cares
So you may feast, and in that feast discover
That which will make of you a city-lover.

Litterate

A second Kindle might appear to be
A second perfume on a violet
A coat of gold gilding a lily
An extra rhyme glued to a triolet;
It might seem purposeless, and even worse
Silly and beyond the pale of reason
But ere you start to lazily rehearse
Such thoughts, remember all things have a season
And there may come a time when books are needed
When what was mocked will come into its own
And those who in their reason smugly heeded
Such sage advice will be bereft, alone.
So do not mock the Kindle doubled 'til
You cannot need it, lest you find you will.

Out

Adventuring is always best with you
No matter just how often I'm alone
I far prefer to do the things I do
When you are present beyond telephone.
I like to have you by me as I roam,
To know the sights I see you also see
That I don't have to wait 'til I come home
To show you my next cool discovery.
It's always better to explore in pairs
And nudge, and point, and share the wonderous
Directly, with someone who truly cares
And so it is when we explore, for us.
What could I wish beyond such fortune? How
Could I be happier than I am now?

Home

The days are long and void

Except when you appear

Hopefully not annoyed

But bright and full of cheer

For when you come back here

And couch yourself by me

You subtly re-steer

My soul to be happy

And since I like to be

As happy as I can

I miss you constantly.

And yet in every plan

There is a flaw or quirk -

In this one, it's your work.

Unglued

The discontented limbs refuse to move
Though they know how, they do not wish to know.
They will not fit the old familiar groove
Of muscle memory. They will not go.
For they have learned by pain to just say no,
To shiver and complain until they get
The wished surcease of effort, and so slow
The mind's insistence that they move it. Yet
Though they, themselves, desire to forget
Their wonted motion, yet the brain recalls
Despite the every effort of their let
What they could do when they would give their alls
And not ungently calls on them once more
To slowly do what has been fast before.

<

I cannot claim
I do not care
To place my aim
On being there
With you...but still
I cannot be
Despite my will
As frequently
As I'd prefer
And so I go
From where we were
To here. But know
Someday I'll come
Where I went from.

FLL

Traveling
But not to you
Is a strange thing
And nothing new
At once. But I
In doing so
Can see how by
This to and fro
In time I will
Most thankfully
Return and still
Have you with me
Which makes me glad
Who else was sad.

Far

It isn't easy to be far from her;
It always puts me in a certain funk
Because the part of me that I prefer
Is tied to her, and therefore I am sunk
Into a slightly different person when
For whatever reason, she is far;
And only when we meet am I again
Myself. She is, perhaps, my guiding star
From which I orient who I will be
And by directions that I take therefrom
I know how to mostly truly become me
And like the person that I have become.
So being far from her is wrenching, for
I'm not the same as I had been before.