A Peculiar Madness

Ah!

If you knew,
if you ever even imagined
how my heart beats wildly,
how my imagination flies
at the thought of you, much less

when the smallest bit
of my skin kisses yours,
you would think me mad,
or in love,

Or
more truthfully,
both,

a madness that has an eternity in it,
undimmed by age,
so passionate my own children would blush
at it’s heat, and

strangers would smile, uncertain and uncomfortable
at love so obviously worn,
so unapologetic in it’s fire.

And you my dear stand close, but not so close
to the flames, uncertain, wavering, wondering
whether you should dance in the firelight,
or flee to safer places, deep, so deep
in the lonely dark.

About this poem.

This actually started out as a spiritual poem, and ended up as a love poem. But the two are often closer in nature than we give them credit for. How, too often, we are unsure whether passionate love is friend, or foe.

The picture I took this weekend. Random lovers on a summer day.

Tom

Tom