Wednesday, April 9, 2014

To K, with chagrin

For you, I have handpicked these words
Cultivated, curated,
The most beautiful syllables
To befit your presence

I know that these chosen words are worthy of you
As they drift off into spirals and curls
Of perfectly-expressed sentiment.

You suddenly surprise me
With your graciousness
And love

And I want to tell you that the hours are a well I cannot draw from
That so many things are left undone
Bleary eyes, painful head, searching for the splendor
That you steal from the skies
That I cannot sleep
But I cannot wake up
That I am surrounded by gifts
I have no idea what to do with
Except for the one with the words
This life, this privileged existence
A blinding flash of gold
And yet I long for all the colors of the rainbow
And the earth below

But these words are not for you.
Here, then, are yours:

I am endlessly thankful, dear friend,
For your graciousness and love
The reminder of a shining moment and the glimmer of a dream
The embodiment of nostalgia for a moment yet to come
My gift to you,
Wrapped up in a ribbon
And tossed toward the stars.

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