Some may see me as conjurer—
Performing tricks to paint illusion….
But I’m no sorcerer.
Not that there aren’t times when
I desire to have more power, but truth is
Strength of essence is not strong enough
To cast a spell. My limitations are real.
Besides, I have no desire to hold you prisoner.
I only want to hold you, look into your eyes
Though these days I only see your back.
Sometimes even the sea seems lonely,
Cries when thunder rolls and lightening strikes—
Both sea and I are much too pragmatic
To be satisfied by only promises of love.
I’ve run out of charms. My only power
Lies in goodness of words, honestly printed
When we are in the same room
Breathing the same breath, hearts pounding,
Needs simple, walking down the same winter road.
We can’t know where the road will end, the curve
Moving to the right, beyond possible explanation.
But what are we doing if not walking each other home?
My goal is to slowly walk, or sit beside the path,
Quietly, without need to even write a poem,
Just listening, watching for something of beauty,
Where death is nothing to be feared.
But I am no sorcerer who casts spells or tosses
Net upon the birds in the trees. Yes, I do fish
Among my dreams, hoping to see you one more time
Before the winter chill, where the light disappears,
Road turning suddenly dark and silence pierces.
To ask you to move just a little bit closer
Would break the silence that grows between us,
And we know it is the silence we love best—
Loving the ending before we ever had chance
To love the beginning.