Ruth is a four-letter word - so is love.
She is my breath; she is my heart, my life,
We go together, hand in glove
She is my lovely, ever-loving wife.
I found her laying on the ground,
missed by all of those fruit pickers.
(She was such a sweet tart quince) –
She had that tartness that awakened me
and sometimes even, made me wince.
She is my koan*, she is my rest, but once again,
a sword that bleeds those drops of rest
And yet she has an inner beauty sparkling,
independent, innocent, all-forgiving
She is my sanctuary, my refuge,
my comfort, my guardian, my friend.
She is my third dimension when we talk
and when we talk she is my love
- When we talk I see the gold grass field
And light o’ the sun and my red love for her
Our link runs deep
She responded, she counseled,
she planned, she knew
And as she did it all,
she swam, she flew,
She dances in my memory
She straightened the crooked
But God had other plans
So now we have the skin, the shell,
She is no more of what once I knew so well
But we can reminisce of happy times gone past
Our love is still as fast - as fast as it once was,
And always has been
*Koan: A paradox to be meditated on
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fred, thank you for sharing the treasure of your heart, David