On Intimacy

I can be gentle, understanding and warm

It seems.

Yet also distant, reflective

In dreams

Of what I thought my world should be,

Though lacking support and not led.

And didn't I wish I could keep it so,

In spite of what others have said.

I've spent many years thinking, obsessing,

Believing I knew a truth

Which would strengthen, protect me and guide me

O'er the countless days since youth.

But assaults have come on my borders,

So they've been somewhat drawn in;

A little close but comfortable,

Secure, once solid; now thin.

I need, desire and want you first friend

To teach me sustainable caring;

What I need to know and accept, so to be

More understanding, open and sharing.

So please cross over these borders

And share what you're willing to say.

Talk about us and what we've been through,

And why we should not throw it away.

We're so much alike, yet so different.

Can we know that and not make a fuss?

Learn from each other, share with each other,

Somehow be with each other, just us?

And back to my wishing for mendings

Which I hope we can talk about soon;

Our traditions and tendings, beginnings and endings.

Are you willing to give me some room

To be back in your life, so surprising?

I know you found strength to let go

When you thought I had exorcised caring,

But just needed to find new ways to grow.

On Why

We have met, and we both know how.
You have happened to me, and I think I know why.
Perhaps it's synchronicity, mysterious in itself;
Two lives, like Spode, stored safely on a shelf

But now needing to be needed, put back into use,
Risk being shattered.
Yes, if dropped, we could break,
But please use us, for God's sake.

Nothing Was Wrong

At first I acted like nothing was wrong,
And assumed my boys would support
The decision I made. At first they were strong,
And gave me a good report.

But reality reared its ugly head
As day gave way to day.
When I wasn't at home to tuck them in bed,
It sank in that I'd gone away.

The Individual

We're never always sure
As we travel through existence
That the crew we started out with
Will share our same persistence

To complete the entire voyage
With us, though they'll surely finish
Perhaps with a different crew
Though the trip will not diminish

Rather it's expanded
Not in length but breadth
It might be far more crucial
To take soundings of new depth.

For all are on a voyage
And each one custom made
To the needs which must be met
If that voyage is to aid

The Individual's search
The meaning of the Quest
Though one will travel East
Another must choose West

It's actually not a mutiny
Though we often feel betrayed
What actually up for scrutiny
Is: Are our fears allayed

That we can keep on going
Though key support must change?
On whom are we relying
And who assists in range?

It's not often our decision
And feelings are not just
We must be open handed
With others who now must

Deal with other needs
As they make a new decision
For themselves and how they'll go
It's growth and not division

Which yields rewards, not limits
And all can gain though split
As each one ventures forth
From hard lessons comes new grit

Attachment has rewards
Though not to whom, but why
If we really love them so
We have to let them fly

And least for now it seems
They've given all they know
To this point at least that's clear
Now it's time for them to go

So with what are we left?
As for them it's their decision
The sharing that we had
Smiles at our vain derision

They had to make a choice
For them not versus us
To experiment still further
Try not to make a fuss

The Individual's All
And when All is added up
It's exponentially more
First we drain then fill the cup

Regret Not Me

The voice I hear is clearly thine
It whispers all of thee
I hear in it the laugh, the lilt
The love so deep in me.

I fear to call for might it cease
Since only Seasons know the peace
Which I shall seek
Till Time repairs

And yet while Winter has her way
I know my solace is to pray
That while we find ourselves apart
The days till Spring will fairly flee

From Winters muffled sounds I plea
And of you ask with answering heart
My love, my love,
Forget not me.

The Joker of Hearts

My Joker of Hearts is too large for myself,
So it's beat twenty years at your door.
It is smaller by half than the one in yourself,
But it knows you're the one we adore.

It wailed out on the morn
Of the day when I was born,
And today, at the world, it still cries.
It will stop, short, never to wail again
When the old man dies.

Many years without numbering,
Thumping, thumping;

A heart never slumbering,
Thumping, thumping.

It will stop short,
Never to wail again,
When the old man dies.

A Poet Named Kat

I just met a poet named Kat
Who's as clever as Cat in the Hat.
She writes about creatures
With scurrilous features
Who don't always know where they're at.

One was a skunk Kat named Dot,
Whose unplanned excursion Dot got.
She woke up in Toronto
And more quickly than pronto
The locals welcomed her not.

And then there's the groundhop named Willy
Who provokes human actions quite silly.
Like Phil in the US
He's relied on to tell us
When winter will end, willy-nilly.

The irony to me is that Kat
Has more than just one favorite cat.
Just north of the border,
Of cats she's a hoarder.
Believe it not, that's that.