I Had a Love

Have you watched the underlying patterns...?
and known, without knowing how, just what
would come - yet even in this knowing,
been unable to affect the future's course.

I had a love, and oh, he was everything to me.
He told me of his life, and his patterns opened out,
weaving their way into my life. They were tangled,
and knotted and full of future pain of past hatred;
and his death - only death lay at the end
of the road he was traveling then.

I loved him so... The love we shared was a sanctuary.
Blessed, holy, forgiving, and kind; we loved eternally -
it was so simple at first. We laughed and played;
we guarded one another; we comforted each other,
and warmed the coldest nights of nature's storms.

He came to me, across the thousand miles, and
swore that we would make this love into the rest
of the days of our lives. I believed him, and in
earnest, began to live that way. I wrote for him, too -
poetry and so much more. And the days we lived
together passed by as if the best of my dreams
had come true.

Through love, and trust, and caring - and through
touch (oh sense divine), our patterns of life
wove themselves more and more together, so
quickly, so entirely. Three months - it seems
eternity to him was fixed in time. On the clock,
written in a calendar of passing days.

I had a love. And then he walked away.
No reason given. No last good-bye. Just gone.
And the patterns of my life were torn apart.
Left hanging in the wind like an open wound;
nerves exposed to open air, blood infected
with ambivalence. Science has no cure
for this, nor religion a redemption.

I wander through dark and haunted corridors
of memory. What was the best is what hurts
the most these days. A flash of light and then
the searing pain. I search for a future
and find not the will to envision it alone.
My solitude is no longer blessed, the way
it used to be, for somehow he still enters
here, unbidden.

I had a love, and now that love is gone.
I must get back to nature soon, beyond
this winter chill. Find a sunlit meadow
full of wildflowers, calling out to me to come
and rest and finally find a healing. Hear
the wind singing softly through the loving
lives of trees. Watch the wild grasses
swaying gracefully, as if to set a course
for me. Feel the mist above the water
come alive again as sunshine reaches
out in artistry, to paint another dream
in brightest hues.

And I must search and find again,
a love that really never ends at all...

? Michaelette ?

2/18/2002
Copyright© 2002 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...