PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

He marvels at her child-like innocence that, not once, in their 33 years together has waned…he loves how she is impulsive, spontaneous…so easily delighted… while he’s a little more restrained.

When they share a sunrise or sunset…she can’t control her excitement…as if the sun, off her soul, is reflecting…he’s a little more reserved…as if the sun’s beams he’s collecting.

When they hear birds welcoming in the morning as sun replaces moon…she happily sings along while he, quietly smiling, listens to the tune.

When sorrow enters their life…when faced with sadness or dismay…he’s amazed at how easily she can cry…she at how gently he wipes her tears away.

When he’s asked…what is their secret…how has their bond lasted so long…how have they persevered for 33 years…what’s made their love so strong.

He says, “the answer is in how differently we see the world as together we travel through it…not necessarily in what we’re seeing…but more in how we view it”.

“When you discover beauty in the world,” he says, “at whatever beauty you happen to be glancing…if you share the different ways you see it…that beauty you’re enhancing.”

We’ve been blessed to enhance each other’s beauty

by the different ways we see…

as she sees all the artistry within the world

and I see its poetry.”

There is a magic that, if we’re blessed, throughout our life persists…

a phenomenon that can’t be explained by philosophers or scientists.

It’s been around long before we were born and will be around long after we are through…it’s something you might find hard to believe…until it happens to you.

It can only occur naturally…it can’t be manufactured…or bought…and only after you’ve experienced it does it become easier to spot.

You can see it in your family and friends with just the naked eye…it is particularly easy to spot in older couples walking by.

Since, once experienced it becomes easier to see…

I wonder…if Charles Darwin knew of its origin…or Isaac Newton its gravity.

Surely something this fascinating begs for the expertise…of Plato…

his mentor Aristotle…

or his student, Socrates.

And what is this phenomenon whose praises have long been sung?

It’s the fact that even as our bodies grow old…the love inside us stays young.

That, even as we age and our actions and reflexes are slowing,…the love we first experienced long ago in our hearts and minds…keeps growing.

It is a fact we all will die…to think differently is a fools endeavor…

but love…once it’s touched us and touched another…will live on…forever.

Love has a way of defying time and space…of gravity…of origin and causation…

of never being fully understood…of eluding explanation.

And I, for one, having experienced it…

feeling its wonder every day…

am not only glad it is so mysterious…

but wouldn’t have it any other way.

Dear Grandpa,

Mommy said you went to heaven…she said it’s not like going to the store…she said, once you go to heaven…we won’t be seeing you no more.

She said whenever I am sad and missing you…there is something I can do…she said to send my thoughts to heaven and they’ll find their way to you.

She said I should write you a letter and my sadness will recede…besides she said you know your grandpa…and how much he likes to read.

She said to do the best I can for she knows I’m just a boy…she said not to write about how sad I am…but to write about our joy.

I remember all those books you’d read to me…my favorite was the dancing giraffe…I remember all those jokes you’d tell…all those times you made me laugh.

I remember watching TV in your arms…falling asleep before the show was through…I remember waking up to find…you were sleeping too.

I remember throwing airplanes in the park…watching them soar so high…I remember when you’d pick me up..and together we would fly.

Hey, you know Mom was right…she said if sat down and wrote you a letter

that I wouldn’t be as sad…that it would make me feel better.

But I’m a little tired now…I hope you understand

If I bring this letter to a close…because all this writing hurts my hand…

But do not worry Grandpa…I’ll send you letters day and night…

because I have a lot more paper…and so much more to write.

So good night Grandpa…I hope this letter finds you happy…

when it finds you in the sky….

Mom said I should say good night…

and never say goodbye.

“Grandpa...what is love?” His grandson asked with wonderment in her eyes.

“You ask a question with many answers.” His Grandpa said. “Let me try and clarify.”

“Love is like the moon.” he said.”It softly enchants our gazes…Its light is strong…its light is infinite…yet…it goes through many stages.”

“Love is like the sun...ablaze and fiery hot…It can be loud and bright and in many ways it is everything the moon is not.”

“Love is like the wind…invisible and sweet…it can enter like a summer breeze…or knock you off your feet.”

“Love is like a tree...it’s beauty…heaven-made…It supplies us with the air we breathe,

and the comfort of its shade.”

“When the leaves begin to fall as the autumn winds begin to blow…trees remind us…part of love…is also letting go.

“Love is like the ocean…it constantly flows upon our shore…and no matter how much water it contains…there is always room for more.

“Love is like this flower…its beauty and aroma can fill a room…and like a flower love needs love if it is ever going to bloom.”

When he paused to think about all he’d said…all the words he’d been combining…he wasn’t sure his grandson understood all the love he was defining.

“But as complicated as love can be…” he smiled, “it can be simple too…as simple as how my heart beats faster whenever I’m with you.

This said…his grandson’s face lit up…then he took his grandpa’s hand…both glad that Grandpa found the words to make his grandson understand.

My thinking has changed over the years…as it has with people throughout the ages…sometimes I think our minds are like butterflies…our thinking grows in stages.

When you think about it…physically…we change a little every day…just look in the mirror…you can tell…so doesn’t it make perfect sense…our thinking would change as well?

Take love for instance…how beautiful is love…for there’s no greater gift I do believe…than love…as wonderful to give…as it is wonderful to receive.

When I was younger…in my cocoon…still learning to find my way in a life so new…my vision of the world was limited…my vision of love was too.

I didn’t understand, yet, how love is truly a work of art…how it’s easier to see love when I close my eyes…and open up my heart.

I didn’t understand, then, how we were all created to love…to love ourselves and other people too…how it only matters that we love…it doesn’t matter who.

Now when I see people in love…any people…any size, any color, sex, shape or age…I smile knowing like a butterfly…my metamorphosis of love is in it’s final stage.

The stage where everything I’ve learned…comes together and converges…

so when the butterfly comes out of his cocoon…with him…love emerges

Perfect Smiles Are No More

There we go, Wasteland!
Loving not really, but the thing
—that only makes us happy.

The same cycle goes, without
saying, about escapist tendencies.

Loving thing, tender caresses
—Lacanian fantasies.

Nevermind the stars, our true nature.
Their influences are just imaginary.

See, now, our indwellings, barren abodes—yet endlessly

We smile at the Night Sky, and into the day

—love that's only meant for a daydream.

It’s funny the different people you meet in life who follow a similar routine…walk with me a moment and I’ll tell you what I mean.

Besides the first birds of the morning and the rabbits and other animals I greet along the way…there’s Bob who walks his dog at the same time every day.

There’s the old people sitting on the deck of their assisted living home…I usually count three…old people who are also up early…old people just like me.

There’s Stella, the homeless lady..who, I imagine, has lost her way…there’s the old man in a blue car who waves as he passes me each day.

And then there’s Oscar and Olivia another older couple who always pass me by…who love to do their walking under the moon…or a starlit sky.

I hadn’t seen Oscar and Olivia in a while…until just the other day when I noticed up ahead of me…Oscar walking my way.

“Hey, Oscar!” I asked innocently, “Where is Olivia this fine day?”

Oscar’s head bowed ever so slightly as he told me Olivia had passed away.

“I’m so sorry, Oscar.” I said as my own emotions I couldn’t hide.

“Let me tell you what I told Olivia,” Oscar said, “as I held her hand…the day she died.”

“I told her I’d loved her all my life…II told her never ever to forget…how my love for her was waiting in my heart long before the day we met.”

I told her I hope my love for her has matched all the love for me she’s shown…

I told her how I loved our walks together…and because I have our memories…I will never walk alone…

And I told her not to worry about me…though I’m not sure where…or when…

I have so much love for her that will be waiting…until we meet again…

I still follow my same routine each morning…I say hi to the animals, to Bob and his dog, to Stella, to the old folks…and before I’ve traveled vary far…as if our clocks are synchronized…I wave to the the man in the blue car 

And when I see Oscar coming toward me…as always…out of his way I politely slide…

giving him all the room he needs to pass…with Olivia by his side.

The words we choose are powerful…

think of the different worlds we create 

when the words that flow from our lips 

are words of love and kindness…

as opposed to words of hate.

Words of love and kindness have the power to build happiness, 

to make us smile…

to bring another joy…

words of hate but one power…

the power to destroy.

We have a plethora of words of love and kindness at our disposal…

whatever kind of love we want to create…

ah…but therein lies the rub…

as the same holds true for hate.

When we use words of love and kindness…

when we see that smile on another face swell…

we can’t help but feel in our hearts

a little love and happiness as well.

When we use words of hate…

when hurtful obscenities we yell…

as we destroy another person…

we destroy ourselves as well.

It all comes down to the kind of echoes we want to leave behind…

the type of world we are trying to create…

Do we want to be cherished for our words of love and kindness…

or remembered for our words of hate?

We met when our children were quite young…you had a boy, I had a boy and a girl…We fell in love and we didn’t think too much back then…about how our life would unfurl.

We got busy building our life together…and somehow when we were done…the two families from where we began…had blended themselves into one.

(CHORUS)

YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO TAKE THAT TRIP OF A LIFETIME…SEE EXOTIC PLACES…TRAVEL FAR AND WIDE TOO…AND I PRAYED AND I WISHED THAT SOMEDAY…I’D GIVE THAT TRIP OF A LIFETIME…TO YOU.

But is seemed there was always somethin’…call it luck, call it life, call it fate…that needed fixin’, needed mendin’, needed patchin’…and that trip of a lifetime could wait.

You fed us, you clothed us, you loved us…you taught us lessons we needed to learn…and you smiled…all the while you smiled…never asking for much in return.

(CHORUS)

But the kids started growin’ and needin’ you…”Hey Mom! Can you help? That’d be great!…and the car needed gas and repairin’…guess that trip of a lifetime could wait.

That’s what happens sometimes as we’re liivin’…seems no matter what plans we make day to day…things happen to change what we’re thinkin’…seems sometimes life gets in the way.

(CHORUS)

The kids grew up, moved out…had a life of their own…you did your job and they all turned out great!…and finally, at last, it was your turn…your trip of a lifetime need no longer wait.

We drove across the country together…stopping in places some near…and some far…we were determined to enjoy this journey…just the two of us in our little blue car.

And I loved watching your face on this journey…even though we were had a few more age lines…because every time I’d see a smile on your face…it somehow…brought a smile to mine.

As I look back on our incredible journey…all the good times…and all the bad too…I realized my trip of a lifetime didn’t begin in that car…it began…the day I met you.

(CHORUS)