Intro     

 

I owe you 5 poems: 

     1. "The Fullness of Time"                       

     2. "Antonio and Margarita" (a story) 

     3. "Your Interior (A Space)"

     4. [Something about smiles]

     5. "Pretty the sun in your face" 

 

I want to write them all. 

This is just a start. 

 

 

 

          1.     

 

I want to write them all, 

to fill stacks of books;

I want to create a  

very 

     very 

          beautiful 

masterpiece of love. 

 

And maybe

I will.

 

Maybe

we will

together. 

 

Maybe

there is a future 

where we write  

those pages,

that living poetry

that requires 

four hands

to be written.  

 

Those perfect

stories  

of those perfect

characters  

who aren't only

able to tell them, 

but are born

to live them. 

 

Those characters

who beat the heart

of all poetry.

 

Those

with hands

that caress

each other

to open 

limitless

doors;

 

Those

with feet 

that know 

how to dance 

through that 

 

          infinite heart.  

 

That heart, the fount

of those characters.  

 

That heart, the source

that gives life to those

whose destiny

is poetry. Those who 

make poetry

their destiny.  

 

Those who love

​

from

within

the infinite.  

 

Do those characters

inhabit people? 

 

Or do people

inhabit those characters ? 

 

Maybe

we'll find the answer 

 

or maybe

we'll make it. 

 

Maybe 

we'll do 

 

it all 

 

in the fullness

of infinity.  

 

 

   

          2.      

 

Neruda says 

of his            love, it's 

 

"So close that

your eyes close

with my dream." 

 

            Like this, I feel  

                    our love.

When with 

your teeth

I fill my smile; 

When with  

your eyes  

I find

my shoes. 

 

 

 

          3.     

 

You asked me, 

-Now?

You heart is open?-

 

From my sleepy crook 

I shook with 

sudden, soft sobriety: 

 

-My heart

is more open 

than it has been in a 

very 

     long 

          time.-

 

From the other side 

of the distance,

barely bigger

than our

noses,

 

I saw, 

you understand. 

 

But I've thought more about this: 

 

                    Yes, 

                         my heart 

has been wide-open, 

as it feels today, 

before. 

 

(So wide that it 

delivers a poem; 

So wide that I 

surrender myself in a poem...) 

 

But, then,

it was a different heart: 

 

It was an innocent heart: 

younger, and 

also smaller, 

(and a worse poet, no doubt.) 

 

Of course,

every heart

is born

open...

 

                     What happened? 

 

Damages.

The damages of natural disasters. 

 

When the doors were closed

it was because my heart was in

renovation: 

           E x p a n s i o n ! 

                       and all that

                       time I 

                       was inside.

The doors were closed, but 

                       I was happy, 

                       happy and 

                       satisfied  

                       knowing well,

These renovations are wonderful! 

(Thinking

I knew.)               However, 

 

Never could I have known

truly how wonderful they were

 

without fresh

light or air. 

 

                       You are, my love  

my fresh 

light and air. 

 

          So, 

it is a different heart 

where I give you space  

                       now:  

 

Bigger than ever, 

even more beautiful,

and now,

best of all, 

open, 

fresh and shining 

anew. 

 

 

 

          4.      

 

I've had treasure 

and I've lost treasure.

I've even thrown treasure

away (before

knowing what it was.) 

 

 

Now

I'm more

careful.  

 

Now 

I'm not only 

 

the girl

in the fountain,

eyes half-closed, 

hands teasing 

her skirt, a girl

lost in a reflection.

 

 

Now

I'm not alone. 

 

 

I'm also the cloaked cleric, 

eyes fixed beyond

reflections;

 

open enough 

to recognize treasure; 

 

wise enough

to know to protect it 

 

strong enough 

to be able. 

 

Like you are, 

starry goat 

and starry fish, 

I'm both

delicate girl

and grounded guardian. 

 

Yes, I am here 

          in the water of  

          love,

          thirsty, 

          naked, 

          and yes, 

          a little lost. 

Still 

 

I will care for you,

I will keep you close , 

I will carry you behind my cloak, 

I will carry you inside my heart. 

 

And I will be strong

as beauty

naked as

statues of stone. 

 

I will be with thanks  

                (for you, 

                 for seeing you  

                 as you are, 

treasure)

         thanks for being. 

 

 

 

          5.     

 

I want to write them all: 

All my debts,  

All my gifts  

All my fortunes, 

All my treasures,

Everything. 

 

Taking everything

into account, I ask myself  

 

What can I give

to prove

my gratitude? 

 

To refill the fountain?

To keep the balance

balanced? 

 

I have

kisses,

smiles

words,

poetry,

prayers,

feelings,

thoughts,

music,

joy..!  

 

               "Is it enough?" 

 

The silent

voice in everything

tells me,

 

               "Not enough." 

 

Softly the voice, master 

of love, bearer  

of love, the silent  

voice

of everything, 

tells me, 

 

"Treasures are lessons

in value." 

 

The voice says, 

"The only thing 

of value 

that you have, 

that I haven't given you,

is what you call

time."  

 

"All right," 

I tell it. 

 

"Whatever you ask,

I give." 

 

I say it to the voice. 

I say it to the page.  

I say it to the source, 

to the infinity

of my heart: 

 

"Take as you wish.

 

It's only time."

 

I say it 

yawning

 

      wide        open, 

 

because 

      this

          is  

             the 

                infinite. 

 

 

 

 

♥