The Letter That Wasn'T There
It is difficult -
Waiting for a letter from you,
Going to the mailbox,
Each day,
Like a toddler to the shining tree
On Christmas morning.
The letters, cards, and colored flyers
Are bright wrappings,
Teasing me with their layers
To find the hidden treasure
(Which I imagine
Lies already in my grasp,
Just waiting to be found) -
A glimpse into your soul.
I'm embarrassed at my disappointment -
Our love seems so new to mean so much,
And, for all my years, friendships,
The vitality of my mind, past success,
I suddenly feel foolish -
As if I had attempted to take a treat
From a jar I emptied earlier.
Do I mistake the wonder
Of your unfolding for love?
Is it the child in me,
Forced too soon into adult roles,
That reaches out to nurture you?
And, more than half a world apart,
Can love find a common ground?
I shrug off my doubts like autumn leaves
And wait for the spring of a new day,
My mind already anticipating the postman's steps.
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