‘Love May Be A Stream’


“The Lake” by Aron Wiesenfeld. Find out more about the artist here.

You found me in the wide and starry sky.
I was trying to hide, to draw warmth in its dark corners.
But your eyes found mine. And your lips found mine.
In that vast sea, I’m not sure how you were drawn to me.

Maybe you couldn’t tell how far I had gone.
My lifeline had been unraveling for a year, maybe more.
When you pulled me in, I don’t know if you realized what you had caught.
I was probably more distant than I knew, nothing more than a pale blue dot.

Love may be a stream, and we can hope it keeps flowing.
I think that’s true for me, even if I can’t feel it coursing through my body presently.
It is easier to trace in the past, once you’ve been overtaken by its current.
I just have to be careful not to be derailed by dangerous, tempestuous memories.

The first thing you did was cover my eyes and call my name.
I hadn’t heard anyone say it so softly, so kindly in a long time.
You pulled away the dust and debris, and you coaxed my pulse up to speed.
When I opened my eyes, you were smiling.

And I suppose I couldn’t remember how to cry, so you were saved from that pitiful sight.
My voice was only an echo in my mind, but you listened as if you could ascertain every word.
I don’t know what you saw in me.
I don’t know what you heard.

But you stayed and swam with me until we reached the shore.
You told me the heavens are no place for heavy hearts.
It’s too easy to drown in that darkness between the stars.
Your patience and laughter began to heal the scars.

And what did I give you in return?
I wish I could say with some certainty.
I tried to give you what you asked for, but I don’t think I had it in me.
At the very least, I hope I gave you some understanding.

Love streams may start, may stop, may slowly dissipate.
We try our best to control them, to harness their energy.
But all we really know is we must savor each drop.
Whether we think we know where that drop is going or where it is not.
It has the power to fulfill us or abandon us to despair.
Ultimately, love streams are the most frightening force of nature, and we must look to each other for safety, for repair.

© Nathan Johnson 2014

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