Speaking of love
It is not
The who or
The where or
The what or
Even the why
What is important
Is the when
For when is
Possibility for when
Is less thought
And more action
For when to
Love is simply
Always to love
Speaking of love
It is not
The who or
The where or
The what or
Even the why
What is important
Is the when
For when is
Possibility for when
Is less thought
And more action
For when to
Love is simply
Always to love
And as is
Usual when the
Dark seems darkest
A hand by
Way of a
Hello reaches out
Simple and innocent
Like the first
Leaf of Autumn
To fall it
Lands softly on
The hand reminding
You that you
Are not alone
It is the
Darkness that is
Your impact on
Me was surprisingly
Less cataclysmic than
I thought it’d
Be when I
Witnessed you falling
Out of Heaven
All fiery spectacle
Ablaze and grandiose
Shielding and covering
Expecting a boom
You landed no
More grand than
A stone in
An already filled
Lake that I
Am making but
One small splash
Nary a ripple
I awoke to
Stillness like a
Fresh blanket of
Snow on the
Rolling pastures of
Southwestern Wisconsin not
Yet tarnished by
Foot or paw
I awoke to
Happiness like children
Realizing that today
Is Christmas full
Of wonderment awe
And glee I
Awoke to peace
Like cross country
Skiers on the
Freshly powdered trails
Of Valais as
The sun begins
To crest the
Alps bringing long
Shadows and sparkles
From my breath
And so at
Last I let
Go of the
Side of the
Boat tired of
Holding on deciding
That to float
Or to sink
Would be better
Than hoping to
Pull myself back
The boat was
Listless going nowhere
Before full of
Prospect aimed at
The new horizon
Now free from
Trust I bob
About in faith
That either land
Or depth will
Eventually touch me
Knowing that I
Alone chose both