i love her i whispered barely aware of what i said i felt the weight of it too and regretted my words perhaps she will say it too but what if she doesn't feel the same regrettably-an original poem
I find myself overwhelmed these days
By memories hard to forget,
At the mention of her name
Or provocation of the same, by a
Picture or a post on social media.
I heard she dyed her hair and I thought that
Maybe she was single again.
But I know how silly that
Is. Marie, her name. And I dream by it.
To be pitied and prayed for is my lot.
There’s a hopelessness attached to her name that is only matched by Christ’s love for her.
From my priest, I was given a piece
Of the peace that can pet a grasshopper.
In stories and tales, I heard understanding would fail
If it tried to comprehend such a subject.
Our many thoughts and empty dreams
Would seem, to us, to truly be unreal
As the Real is brought near
In prayer beyond all contemplation.
Imagination, meditation: useless feats
That cannot compete with noetic prayer, once stirring.
I know, dear feather, it is like
Breathing to be together.
How suffocating it must be to be apart!
How pitiful we must be to long for
Nothing else so deeply
But see keen wisdom in hesitation.
Forgive me for my distance;
Forgive me for my affection.
Forgive me for even writing,
But I anticipate your own
And this is my reply.
How could it be so natural
To speak to you the way I do?
Why is it like breathing
To give you all of my time,
And spend my meager moment
Staring deeply in your eyes,
Only to receive it back as gold refined?
Could I dare call it a waste if,
Though none of my work was done,
I spent all hours with you?
Instead I call on God to still the sun,
And give me just one more hour.