S. R. Lavin

Two Doves

If it were possible
I would crawl backwards
through time
on my face
to change what I did wrong,
those times I hurt those I loved
or had the chance to do
what I neglected to do,
where I trampled when
I should have tiptoed
or left when I should have stayed
or stayed when I should have gone.

Without love we are nothing.

Sometimes I see it all so clearly,
like, say, two mated birds,
doves, as a demonstration
of how to be.

He watches over her and protects her.
She fulfills his purpose, completes his love.

Perhaps that ...