In Early April - Poem by Daniel Brick
We had kept all our promises, some
as old as the child dancing
between us on our walk, others as fresh
as the dew still clinging to the grass,
wet and shining. With my right
hand I pointed to yellow chimney
smoke floating freely high above
the treeline at the lake shore, while
my left hand explored the middle
space, just above the child's head,
seeking your right hand, swaying
like a censer spraying lilac scent,
our favorite, into the Sunday air.
Our hands clasped, and your touch was
soft like lilac breath. We went
forward to hear bells chiming
across the water, the child skipping
ahead, squealing with delight, and we
felt a quieter delight unfold and swell:
we recognized within a single thought,
this is how easy falling in love can be.
We passed the half-way bend of the path.
I smiled as you nodded, over the child's
head, toward a huge funnel of clouds
rising slowly into a pale blue sky.
And it seemed to drag the day along
with it, as if a summons from Heaven
had actually fallen to Earth after all
these decades of silence. Oh, the promise
that was fulfilled at that moment
fell into its destined place! Your right
hand held my left hand, the child chattering
between us, the lilac-sweet air tumbling
between us, and deep down, where heart
and soul are neighbors, we were dizzy
with the yellow joy of early April.
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