Friday, May 9

Friday Again!





So, before Josh and I were married I went through a brief period when I was able to write constantly. It had been a while since that had happened. I have my theories why, but they really aren't important. They important thing is that I look back and have some interesting written products that preserved the depth to which Josh rocked my world (and why not??).

This is one of my favorite poems form this time, not so much because it is well written, but... well, maybe you'll understand.

Map of my Heart

Sir, here is a map of my heart.
You will need it,
There are many pits, dead-ends-
You will only get one chance
To make a wrong turn or fall down.

True love is a long time in it's coming.
There has been using and wishing
But not love- well, there has been self-love
But not from me.
"I love... I love...
Myself." he said to me.
He did not sigh when he left me,
And I panicked because I did.

Love is a cruel delight-
Exacting pleasures, belief in wholeness-
And love can drift away.

Yes, I believe you will need a map.
If you are able to decipher
Where there is soft earth and loose gravel,
Maybe-
You may find a place to make you home
Nestled in a lush hillside
Or on a valley floor.

Do not believe me damaged for this rough terrain
No one broke me down, laid me bare.
I laid these traps myself.

I have been alone now.
My voice has been a hollow falling wind...
falling... faling away from God.
I spoke His name until I could speak no more.
Until I could devise a plan.

And my voice came back,
Alike that of a bird's voice, a call to morning.
A joyous call.

So who are you to sigh for me?
You who need a map?
You who dared not play my games until you knew...
Until you thought you knew all of me.
Who are you to sigh for ME?
As though those sighs buy lumber for bridges-
As though my own two hands could build.

You think these traps are for you.
To catch you, to break you, to drive you away.
I fear. I do.
It is not you I plot to catch, to break, then drive away.
I fear those sighs.
I fear a hollow falling voice.
I fear love is too late coming for me.
I fear I could not sigh for you.

Just so you all know-
As I reread this, I realize that I still have a bit of rough terrain in me, and that I still fear a hollow falling voice, but I do have hands that can build.

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