(to Be Named Later) Poem by Brian Maloney

(to Be Named Later)



If I could word each thought
that revolves in my head…

If, in being thought,
I could speak and the words would
wet the arid rocks into a stream that flowed towards you.

If, in speaking these words
and having them heard by you,
I could diminish the wrong that lies between us,
folding the water back beneath the oars.

If, in making things right,
I were to become a conduit of communication,
of affection without intention
of repentance paired with action,
of certainty in the midst of vanity.

If I were to become this conduit
and hold your hand lovingly
and see you as a child
and show you passion where before
the barren land lay wasted and withered…
and we build something together.

If we then build something and tremble with awe in our creation,
if it blossoms and blooms
in the way that you or I could not alone,
if it shines through the seasons
and masters the massive void
with the space we fill
and curiously traces its fingers down the spine of our beginning.

If, at the end,
we lie and let time elapse
without notice
because of the joy that comes from sorrow
and the pain that produces certainty in spite of the ashes of fear.
If we lie at the end and still,
through the metamorphosis of memories,
feel each other as if it were the first time.

If,
when you or I are no longer alive,
we can look and find each other in the places we love most,
in the storming of the waves blown back that yields to the regal rock of the sea,
in the movement of the trees as they tease the leeward wind,
in the shake of the mast that faces the western wind,
in the mistakes that made way for the mastering of each other
while taking comfort in the fact that
we controlled nothing…

I would hesitate.

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Brian Maloney

Brian Maloney

Columbus, Ohio
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