Oh you. You know who I’m talking to,
you saw me though - everything.
For years we’ve been getting closer
and closer until WHAM!
Planets collide,
you’re on my side.
My magical, high momentum meteorite of love.
Meeting me in the middle of moss and
mangled roots - that contact point
where sparks flew, and I joined them,
flying to the outer reaches of the atmosphere,
not caring about the distance to the ground
because I was with you my dear,
and we would cover it together.
How often is it that something like that occurs?
I’m no astrologer, but I’ll bet it’s not a common comet.
Just like you - not all that common.
A rare gem, hidden in the depths of the earth
with properties no scientist could figure out.
A shining ray of light and beauty, while also having
that complex molecular structure, the inner workings that
none can fully understand.
In writing, I seem to have strayed. So I’ll keep to the core.
You. You. You.
Your hair of gold, glimmering like a Goddess,
a gentle curl, crafted out by grace itself over millenia,
each strand deserving it’s own epic.
The thickness, giving me something firm to hold on to,
telling me, “Boy, you’re not dreaming any more.”
Score!
And what’s more, your smile - oh I would walk the long mile
to see that - lifting the clouds and dark thoughts that try to
invade the world away. Replacing them with joy;
pure, honest happiness that lives to see
the broken fixed,
the hungry fed
and the lost found.
But that’s skipping ahead of the rest of your head!
The diamonds you stole, and placed as
the windows to your soul
shine with such brilliance,
covering the bad things that they have seen
with innocent hope and bright ideas
that threaten to outshine the sun.
Your delicate nose, oh heaven knows that
when I think of it, all I can see is yours
touching mine - connecting us - like two otters
caught in a storm, knowing that if each
holds on to the other, all will be well
when the gods calm the swell.
In each of these words is unabashed truth,
I hope you don’t think me uncouth,
My Ruth.
~Peter T.B.~
