The Real You Poem by Diana van den Berg

Your poetry cloak
of shimmer-velvet maroon
that glints in the sunlight
and the moonlight
with your every lithe movement,
is very, very beautiful
and yes it draws me to you
with its magic,

but, oh, when you let it slip
so slowly,
cautiously,
shyly,
bravely
off your shoulders
and on to the forest floor
and

trusting me
with your heart,
your soul,
your sensitivity,
your raw truth (well, a lot of it anyway) ,
and your gentle and your explosive thinking
which is first crazily spontaneous,
then so cleverly,
kindly,
strategically
sculpted
to warm my heart
yet carry the message of the moment,
be it for me,
against me,
testing me,
teasing me,
or not about me at all,

when you thus
show me
the magic,
the wonder,
the strength of your weaknesses,
the weakness of your strengths,
the good, the bad,
(and I could never, ever say, nor even less, think - no matter what - “the ugly”)

when you show me all these things
that are the real you
and more precious
than gold
or fragile glass
or even dewdrops
could ever be,
then
oh, oh, oh,
I,
the wildly, ferociously, passionately independent me,
melt,
breathlessly
in your thrall.

(15 June 2013)