Namaste.
I don’t believe
in love at first sight
but even at a glance
you were radiant.
Your big brown eyes
were warm and bright
and the smile on your lips
was broad, smooth, effortless
as your eyes lit up
at the sight of a new face.
At first, I only knew your name
barely sharing a word with you
as we passed each other
in the aisles.
But words grew into sentences
and sentences into paragraphs
and soon we were talking
whenever we were both there
and had a moment to spare.
In those stolen moments
I learned the language of your face.
Your face has its own language
the language of a song
singing along
to everything you say
everything you hear
everything you feel
singing along
even in silence.
Your eyebrows arch in surprise
and your mouth falls wide
as I tell you a story
you’ve never heard before.
Your smile is big and broad
and your eyes are bright as the sun
as you talk about your daughter.
Your face flushes
if only for a moment
when you feel loved.
And when you hear
someone is sick or hurt
your lips slip into a pout
and your eyes
well up with sorrow
even when you’re not crying.
If your face is a song
then your body is a symphony
a carefully crafted composition
with notes flowing into chords
chords into bars
bars into movements
the movements of your body
blossoming into poses
with a subtle skill and strength
that reveals your inner fire.
I used to tell myself
that someday
someday
when I took my twisted frame
and made it supple and stout
and learned to sing with my body
sing a song as strong and silken
as your soulful symphony
that we could be together.
But that may take a lifetime
and I’ve already spent
a lifetime without you.
I don’t know
if you feel the way I do.
I don’t know
if you’re ready for someone new
after what you’ve been through.
I don’t know
if you’ve already found
someone else to talk with you
to move with you
to hold you
and haven’t had the heart
to tell me.
But I want to know.
And I want you to know
that whatever you feel
whatever you choose
I will always love you.
Namaste.