Words Immortal

 

Not so many years ago, poems made me smile.

With the world around me tossing to and fro,

I could sit, and I admit, I sat for quite a while.

As those words whispered in my ear

Of places I could go.

 

Vessels, ships on stormy seas, bound for distant lands

Those muses, Frost and Silverstein, would spirit me away.

My journey done, yet not begun, I’d lie upon those sands.

As those words looked at me and said

“What shall we do today?”

 

The days were long and beautiful, and I couldn’t help but grin.

The sunlight tasted golden on my tongue.

On that beach, I smoked with Nietzsche, and drank Neruda’s gin.

As those words enveloped me

And assured me I was young.

 

As we sat there, reveling, in our debauchery,

Slowly, gracefully, an angel drifted from the sky.

Senses captured, heart enraptured, I felt her gaze pierce me.

The words offered no reason:

“Who are we to question why?”

 

“I’ve never met another here”, she said with some surprise

I heard gales and gentle breezes in her tone.

Quaking, shaking, aching, breaking, I met this stranger’s eyes.

For though I’d had the words in me

I’d always been alone.

 

And so we walked, our footprints washed away by shifting tides

She knew Shakespeare and Petrarch, just like me.

You know the tale. Our love prevailed, and I made her my bride.

And out of words we built a boat

And sailed those bounteous seas.

 

My hair turned gray, my skin did crack, but my smile never perished

Our children manned the masts and I the wheel

The songs we sang, the tunes that rang, the memories I cherished

Were brought to life around me

By the words that made them real.

 

But one cruel night, as I did doze, death came for her in sleep,

Suffocating in the night, her final breath unheard.

At her request, her corpse was blessed, surrendered to the deep.

And as I stood there on the deck,

I found a use for words.

 

“I love you to the depth, and breadth, and height my soul can reach.

The salty ocean cannot match the salty tears I cry.

For I’ll recall, in Spring and Fall, those walks upon the beach.

And though our lives are fleeting,

These words will never die.”

 

Comments

Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda

Powerful expression! 

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