The Imperfect Circle

She was riding a horse sidesaddle

through the yellowing leaves. He was

watching her with such longing that I

knew he would never love another. It

is often this way. The heart relaxed open

at the right time meets someone in the

middle of coming alive and we think

it can only be this one or we are lost.

It can take decades to understand that

nothing over there holds anything

more precious than where we are.

Yet it’s a comfort to give our all

to one brilliant thing that seems

to ride off. To put our hope into

the one thing we are not. And still

it’s possible to love another this fully,

as I have loved you. Yesterday you were

far ahead with our dog and the yellow

leaves were falling all around you. The

path was empty and you were walking

into the sun. Nothing more precious

than where we are. Nothing like you

and I in the middle of coming alive.

It can only be you or I am lost.

*photo credit: Unsplash

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