how quickly lives can touch,
it does not take much time,
Just a bit of love, not much,
that molds a heart to mine;
there is a quaint sadness,
when time’s not on your side,
mixed with a strange gladness,
hope left behind to bide;
the road goes on, as does time,
hope moves on, the heart aches,
love promises the sublime,
but seldom gives what it takes…
I have been here before;
I have slept on this floor;
I have counted each vein,
Left on windows by rain;
Spoken words echo through;
Each remind me of you
And you and you and you;
I don’t doubt all were true,
When you said them to me;
They filled this room, silently;
They seeped into these walls;
Each one of them recalls
How they filled a lost heart;
And stayed to never part;
But you did;
And I hid.
I left this place of hope;
I left this place to cope,
With what was left to me,
Quite silently.
I walk back now,
With a wiser brow,
And a sharper eye,
With no need to try
To weigh my mistakes.
(I thought there were none.)
I do not blame you;
Neither this soft view,
Through the window pane,
Against fresh soft rain
That is so known; yet
Such that I forget
Why I hid long ago
From this slept-on floor.
I have always searched for roots.
Being adrift in space
Is never what I wanted.
I wanted a quaint place
I could call home; my solace
Where I could be just me,
With hot chocolate and books
And love for company.
I have sought for strong anchors
To stop my wayward drift;
Something heavy that no storm
Could possibly lift.
I found them in what I read,
In what I loved and knew,
In what I wrote and learned,
In what I danced and drew.
I became an anchor then;
Roots was what I became;
I dug into the sea bed,
Made a tree of my name.
If you choose to see this,
As being stuck for all time,
I must set you to sea,
Your fruit was never mine.
Perhaps out in the ocean,
Drifting in colder air,
I dare say, you’ll find your peace,
Devoid of me and care.
Perhaps out in the free air,
Like pollen with no aim,
You will just be –
No flower must you tame.
I stay here anchored fast,
Rooted to my haloed ground,
I shall read and drink and love,
No complaint shall resound,
From cold ocean and warm earth,
I look upward to sky:
I am here. Here I live,
Here I love. Here I die.
Hearts Still Care 
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