in a world forced into a hush,
our minds crave words spoken close.
our stories shared across time zones itch,
while inside we scream for release.
idly waiting for the tomorrows
when meetings will be filled with embraces,
we dream of kisses,
and we’ll read each other’s faces
and know exactly what it means,
not filled with frustration from a frozen screen.
we dream of soaking in moments
while delaying the tomorrows even further.
one day soon, we say, we’ll no longer meet in isolation
but gather with our loved ones.
we yearn to linger in the warmth,
the touch, the feeling of being close once again.
*a rewrite from the original poem posted May 2, 2020.
I originally wrote this poem in May 2020 and have revisited it often. The original poem is shown below along with the updated version that is published in Coffee Shop Sessions III: In the Arms of Love. I share this with you to show that poetry can be a process. It doesn’t always come out right in one swing. If the poem means a lot to you, then nurture it.
The original poem:
Walking down to the beach,
I’ll see you standing there,
and tug on that beard.
I’ll knock you down,
roll around with you through the waves
and land on top.
You’ll have the sand between your hairs,
our bodies soaking wet,
while watching the sand melt away beneath us.
It’ll melt the distance between us,
it’ll melt the silence held within
while we watch the waves in unison.
Daydreaming for hours
because we know the waves will never stop.
And maybe, just maybe, we hope to be like those waves:
with ceaseless power,
The updated version:
Along the shoreline, the two of us stand close
as the distance between us grows.
It comes across in hurling waves,
unlike the gentleness that greeted us.
Let me bother you,
and remind you I’m still here.
The stale heat of the summer air
weighs us down into a thick fog.
If only I could reach for a knife
to cut right through, separating us in two.
I watch you standing there,
but I’d rather tug on your beard.
I’d give anything to roll through the waves
with me landing on top,
to lay with our bodies soaking wet,
watching the earth melt away beneath us.
The distance between us would dissolve,
and the silence held within, while
watching the waves in unison.
Our feet would become cemented in place
while daydreaming for hours, as we
know the waves will never end.
Just as we once aspired to be:
never-ending, flowing carelessly.