A Poem for You

A Poem for You

Hiding in the forest waiting for the dawn

Winding through the brambles, flesh and fingers torn

Darkness seemed like daylight here amidst the trees

Wounds upon my body only my disease

Sitting on a dead bark gazing at the pond

Studying the water knowing nothing was beyond

The end of gentle ripples as I disturbed the glass

And any small disturbance would very softly pass

And sometimes when I sat for long my throat would close and wring

And churn out all the silence and make my sorrow bring

Out all the days of nothing and all the nights awake

When waiting in this forest would make this body ache

And then amidst the madness of my empty silent night

When nothing was the victor and my loneliness was right

You pushed me from the tree bark and you sat there, looking on

And talking of the days and nights after your life had gone

And there you were and there I was and there was every day

And there we were both listening with so much more to say

About all this ridiculous and frantic kind of sun

To check it all for errors and to tear up what we’d done.

And until now I haven’t known the start of what I’ve made,

Or where you found the feelings that you carelessly conveyed

Or how you came so quickly from within the darkest night

And how you carried on your back your broken love, in spite

Of crippled limbs and blinded eyes and shattered hopes and dreams

And sweet attire now hanging from your body, torn at seams,

And your own private darkness which no other man could see

Brought you, a burning jewel, in your poverty, to me.

And in return I give you every moment of my days

And in return I thank you for the errors in your ways

Which made you stand beside me, hold me tightly in your hand

And made you kiss my body with the way you understand

I cannot write my sunshine for it stretches far above

The paper and the words about the meaning of this love

I cannot give you anything which acts as any clue

About the measure of the feeling that I have for you.

So here I stop and go and try to feel it all once more,

That maybe one day I can pick myself up from the floor

And dust away the splintered shock of feelings that concuss

And tell you what you’ve done to me and all there is for us.