Of A Love Yet To Come Poem by Thoughts of a Single Man

There in the quiet shades of departing grey
I see her wading on the water of our impending union
beneath the wings of the doves of day
as on an open sea she sets sail
delicately treading in the navigation of our emotions
in search of the crying heart
the course laid full in the trying art
that had been delivered to her in a stream
that flowed so silently
in the notes serenaded in a single man's humble dream
her heart was called upon by another
through words that dripped from the a single pen
etchings made on the wall of her being
markings made in the angst of her breathing twin
so serenely pure in her endeavor
for in truth she has remained untouched
for no hand has truly caressed her cheek
muddied her tender feet
soiled her sacred sheets
for none before me has ever yearned to share her story
or has ever loved her so much
she felt the words enter her
as if they were written on the canvas of her soul
scripted loud and plated bold
for she seeks the poet who did not write to entice
but to be penned in the Zen of her dawning light
the message lingered over her
like floating clouds warm on the winds of chance
there in the valleys of immortalized romance
as I drift upon the river of my reaching path
where is laid in the echo of her name
I am bound to her my lady fair
in the acts of the fabricated links
where clings the connecting ink of our beckoning chain
as she stands poised moving ever closer to me
prancing on the petals of my unspoken prayer
for she is no stranger to me
I have seen her image a thousand times
dedicated to her a thousand lines
for she walks the wonders of my slumber
and each night as I close my eyes
she is there
coming to me
running to me arms open
as I am racing to her side hoping to embrace her
as she nears me in my ensuing glee
yet I am damned as awaken before we can meet
before I could taste those lips so sweet
but in the hollow of my heaving heart
I know in my solace that she is coming
and I in turn venture in my destined purpose towards her
like the lost two ships of infamous lore
that are on course with one another
to be found whole in the sands of heavens waiting shore
for such is the destiny of fated lovers
as they merge where only the angels hover
forsaking all others
so many before her have seen the bulk of my words
yet no message has truly been heard
they simply grasp at what the poet openly brings
toying with the strings of his shattered heart
as the pieces still swim free remaining ever apart
but she hears me
she reads me
she sees me
and I see her
as events so grand to come for she draws near
and in the time of the mating we shall meet
upon the waters that were made by our tears
for the poet’s hand does not always seek the pen
there in the deafening pitch of abusive night
it seeks the elusive friend
and so I patiently and gratefully wait for her
as she floats along the water alone
on her way home
riding the gentle buoyant balance
of the tribute of my words tallied in the offered sum
carried in her mission upon the existing waves
of a love yet to come



Thoughts of a Single Man © 2014