∴

someone once told me
that we can only come together
and be in right relationships
when we are completely whole
ourselves,
and the other person is, too.

well,

i’ve never met a completely
whole
person
in all my days,
nor have i borne one into this world,

and if we were to wait for perfection
before coming together,
i fancy we’d be even lonelier
than we already are.

for my part
rather,

could i figure
that we’re broken
in all the right places?

that holes with holy
make whole our folly
and fill with forgiveness
the rest.

∴

∴

trying is not the same
as holding out,
though neither one is painless.

but only one of those
stands the ground;
the other plows and tills it.

the crop may fail
as nature deems –

some storms outweigh
the strength of stalks –

but you would not
blame the seed
for sprouting.

∴

∴

i shall be dauntless in love

to those who receive it.

and to those who do not

see it’s value

or feel it’s warmth,

i wish well

and well

and well,

but no longer wish

my own alteration

to please.

∴

the empty house

⋅

when did you tire of love, my love?

when did you leave that abode?

was there something I could have done

to keep your eyes from dimming

and your heart from growing cold?

there is no home elsewhere to go

or family to be found,

for all my strength

has been built into these walls.

if empty they’ve been made

and empty they remain

what good is my threshold or grain?

∴

goodnight,
my unknown friend.

in meeting,
how we grew young again.

from the wide hope of babes
to the far end of age,

we marked this day forever.

o brother,

o deep family,

see how we held
for a second,

love.

∴

∴

the hardest thing

is to have everything

except the very thing

you need.

∴