bluff
and double bluff
i loved you
but you did not love me
how could that be
how could that continue to be
he loved her
instead of you
how could that be
how could that ever be
Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
bluff
and double bluff
i loved you
but you did not love me
how could that be
how could that continue to be
he loved her
instead of you
how could that be
how could that ever be
on the certain line
of completion
as the eyes open
and the nostrils confirm
ylang ylang and nutmeg
and patchouli
from the joss-sticks
this being the way
to the beginning of the day
i write to you
you were there
then you were gone
you spoke the words
i loved to hear
i write to you
what love
is to be found
on the cusp
of our waking dreams
i write to you
i was there
then i was gone
i spoke the words
you loved to hear
i write to you
in plain type
in bold type
the poem appears
then disappears
i write to you
thankful for your gifts
of loving kindness
of absolute transcendence
to the worlds of love
you were absent
then you were present
you spoke the words
i loved to hear
in this way the alchemy was more
than the creation of porcelain
i was present
then i was absent
i rewrote the words
you loved to hear
in this sense the alchemy was way more
than the creation of porcelain
on the very cusp
of the closing bell sounding
clarity and sense and purpose
reveal themselves to be together
as the basis for continued love
in the presence of awareness