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