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“Love is no mystery, it is merely my decision to make of you a deeply considered and very comfortable subject.”
    ~ Hugh & Gayle Prather, Notes to Each Other (1990)

You chide
In just the way of the mist
That seems perfectly peaceful
As I pass through
Given the choice
One comfortably at rest would so remain
Yet the wind comes

There’s nothing that brings on its own destruction
Like the ephemeral
You’ll return
Though taken
Though scattered
Though the wind having moved on
Into places unknown by you or me
Leaves you here again
After the next rain’s end
Rising and collecting yourself
In silence
There’s more than mere words can hope to convey

Noticed if only in passing
Certainly never up to this role
It was never up to me
To take responsibility for a heart
Without authority to hold it
To prevent its being broken
Blown away scattered
Magical by nature
You do this easily
With less than a whisper
Are desires manifested
Earthy dreams impressively realized
Should battles be sought
Warriors are admired
Bodies hardened to be locked in combat
And left without breath
Returning to the soil on which you’ll soon dance

Yet I remain to see
The coming ascension
Beyond the forceful rending
For you’ve appreciated more delicate things
This yielding substance
In which I find myself surrounded
Is shaped by nothing
Less than the mountains
Least of all me

    July 2017

Thanks always returns

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