If I had my way I would take you
under the shadow of trees
and tell you things. I would take
one of your hands
in both of mine, below hills
where moss clings
to the curve of rocks. Part of us
is unfailing. As light
as sun through water. Though water
is reckless. Waves crash. From them
the last drop of mist contains
enough life to populate a world. The world
is shivering - listen. Your voice
is a river spilling into an ocean, or night
rushing into a darkening sky. Like coming home late,
the house cold. Who is waiting but someone you once knew
and were not expecting
and were hoping to see again. And there's wine
and cake left from last night.
In the most unexpected places,
you're waiting. Years from now
we won't remember the pact we made: to confess
nothing, not to lean
over the edge of the world.
My children are asleep and friends
have gone home. It is all
enormous. I'm forced
to start small.
If I had my way...
But each life requires love
it cannot use.
Yes, it is me.
It's the invisible me who won't forget
and who you hold without touching.
~ from In Cannon Cave (Brick Books, 1997)
