say it was in the stars,
something supernatural led me to you.
say it was the moon
pulling my tides closer to you.
it’s something deeper
than a mere connection.
it’s something in the waiting
& it grows with our knowing.
you can’t put your finger on it.
there’s something there.
some will call it ‘love’
but it digs in so much further.
it’s in our details,
to the blissful silence
from a longing stare
deep into each other’s eyes.
it’s in the wanting
and never getting enough.
it’s in having someone who cares deeply;
nothing will ever change this feeling.
it’s in the way we don’t need to talk
but when we do
it sends signals
straight to our hearts.
it’s something we’ve never felt before.
a striking phenomenon.
how our hearts and thoughts run away with us.
for now, we’ll call it ‘love’ until we find a better word.
A rewrite from an earlier posting on June 6, 2020. Thanks for reading.
He looks to the left, a quick pause to check the commotion.
There’s shouting crying out on the street. Stomping boots,
signs in hand. It’s another day, another protest, nothing to
worry over. She questions him, “What’s happening?” It
could be anything, or nothing at all. They want attention
and this is the day they chose to be seen.
“You should go, I know I would if I could.” She embraces
the urge to signal solidarity. She recognizes the lonely pillar
of strength squawking into the void. She’s eager and enlivened
to join. “They need us,” she tells him. The artists, the movers,
the shakers. But they march where no one is watching. With
no real audience, nothing will change if no one is listening.
