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Sottovoce'

Pajamas, glasses and shiny black hair
I didn’t know what to say so I grinned
“This is me”, she said with welcome in her arms
“So that’s you,” I thought, “So that’s you”
So curious to see us face-to-face
As she showed me her collection of fishing lairs
And explained the fine art of piscatology
Sipping coffee from our casual chairs

Like felines meeting for the first time
I wanted to see her in every way
Same face, same voice, same body
And the same mind that blew me away
I slept that night wondering
“Who am I?” but why should I care?
I was where I belonged in the world
Because in the morning I woke and she was there

We talked about God, life, politics, and dreams
With every word, the façades melted away
We read to each other most fascinating verse
Until our eyes were tired and our bodies sore
With curiosity we saw the world
As it had never been seen before
The grass was a bed of Jade, the clouds, messages
The four-leaf clover, our tokens

She showed me the one she loved
I didn’t know what to say so I watched
To understand who he was, and she
To see where she belonged in the world, so I could be there
A parade of fools, we walked in a line
The three of us in the dimly lit streets
The Genius, the Dreamer, the River of Dreams
Swimming upstream in the realm of insanity called life

I reached out and captured every inch of light
As it passed from the sky into her reflection
Peace came upon us and it made us still
Two rainbows standing in a raging storm
I watched her as she moved through the world
In infinite still-frame masterpieces
On canvas of all creation, her opus played
I felt her presents, and delighted, every one

In the middle of a lake we laid in a balance
The boat gently rocked, egrets flew overhead
I lowered myself and, raising her up,
Animated against a crystal picture frame
I looked at her, she looked at me…
Still, so still…such peace…no words to say…
Nothing to say…
At this place, this moment, together, we were
And then…the moment was gone

I received a letter the other day
It was her, yes, it was her
The messages were there, the tokens
I read as she ran through my fingers
Like the grass that we spread at our feet
I didn’t know what to do, I just didn’t know
I held her and felt the words pouring from her mind
And heard her think in a quiet voice

I folded the letter and carefully
I placed it, sealed in my left breast pocket
In a place of its own, where it belonged
And put my arms around a cloud
While every day I wonder,
“Who am I?”…and why should I care?
I am where I belonged in the world
Because with every beat of my heart, she is there

October 12
Copyright ©2000
Michael Paul