in you

in you, i see the river,
strong and slow as unquiet stones
running across the land without a
moment of rest,
blue flowers at your bank,
curling in to sip at your sweetness.
in you, i wish to bathe,
pour the water on my skin, sliding
like silk across rough patches
and scars from past loves lost
across the skies.
in you, i wish to drown my soul
letting its words whisper to those
who might lay by your river
and dream, ponder, while
looking towards the sky.
in you, i think of spring, the frost
melting from a season of barren trees
and wilted moss and wet earth.
in you, i see so much sun, tanning the
white earth brown, turning brown to green
like the loveliest shades of your eyes.

in you, i see the turn of winter chills,
and the start of sudden, molten thrills
like the sun's smiling down on us.

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Someone once told me that the greatest writing you would ever write is a love letter. I think this is true. I could write hundreds of love letters and poems and never capture the feeling. It's elusive and warms to the core of your soul. There is something earthy and wholesome and something outworldly. Like, you say to yourself, what is this? what is this feeling?

So, inadequately, I keep writing love poems, like so many poets before me. We try again and again to capture the feeling, writing hundreds of thousands of millions of words dedicated to one feeling.

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