My Hyper Cosmic Valentine [poem]
How come I see that face
and know the one who lies
behind the mask
was (in another time)
my heart’s delight
my joy my pain my
want-to-get-it-right again
no matter how many
days and nights and
months and years
and centuries it takes?
And so a dance began
which fashion didn’t plan
but setting out like
shadow puppets on
a curtain made of time
we surely struggled
(often muddled) hard
to make it cleanly rhyme
while blazely whirling
crazely making love
unfurling down
across the span sublime
which stretches out
behind us in the dotted
line which blinded us
to who we are — our
stellar repertoire of
opportunities untaken.
Maybe in this time around
we’ll awaken then
wholly mend us and
blithely straighten out
the potent blessed rays
which danced in tandem
no more meetings faintly
random knowing bonds
cannot be broken by the
eons’ vast unspoken
fronds of ages coldly
turning pages of time
while love engages the
pursuit benign
the twoofus
at last
combined
my
hyper
cosmic
valentine.
© 2012, Alan Morrison
The Naked Troubadour 