Mathom '06

- jan-u-wine
It isn't far now,
 
not far at all.
 
A journey more of the heart
than any made upon two legs.
 
And so we stand,
silent
but ever so much not so.
 
We stand,
 
Sun rising behind us,
the peculiar cold of the Sea at dawn
 
catching our bones,
our shadows flowing together upon the sand.
 
And mine is not so much larger than yours,
not when it is just a shadow,
 
sun-cast upon the strand.
 
And I would turn to you,
 
but somehow I cannot.
 
It is more personal,
somehow,
 
to watch the play of your shadow,
there.....
 
hair lifting in the sea-dawn wind,
hand rising to shade your eyes
 
(always looking to the horizon,
aren't you......
 
always......
thinking
 
about what might lie
 
just beyond
the edge of your sight),
 
shoulders squared and yet
easeful,
 
speaking
of one perfectly at home.
 
 
And the joy of you,
 
quiet
simple
at peace
at last,
 
surrounds me,
too,
 
like the grey of your cloak,
warm-woven and strong,
 
sweet with life.
 
Better than aged parchment,
over-written by your fine hand,
 
(words spill'd like silver upon the page )
bound about by satin,
 
better than even that,
 
this day,
 
cobalt sky shading,
drifting,
 
loosing itself in outremer crests.
 
It is better than anything,
to share this day with you.
 
It is
my
 
blue ribbon day.
 
     
(with thanks to Linda, she who brought the ribbon with which this particular present is bound)