If only I were the grass you walked through
Then you would touch me
If only I were the wind that played with your hair
Then you would hear me
If only I were the wine in your glass
Then you would taste me
If only I were the book you would read
Then you would see me
If only I were the song on your lips
Then you would know my name
If only I were the flame to your candle
Then you would behold me
If only I were the laughter to your koan
Then we would be one
Heart-breaking… and beautiful… and perhaps, somewhere sometime, we are grass, and wind, and moon in the river… painting gently, love songs on the face of a patient sky.
I pray you are happy and safe in a fragrant garden. I pray the universe is kind to you today, and forever.
A gentle longing that resonates within us…
A visually stunning poem.
“If only I were the flame to your candle
Then you would behold me”
…the gloom of darkness would make way
for the dancing light of synergy
It started as a koan: the candle and the flame…who beholds who? it’s been gnawing at the centre of me since the guitar piece I wrote. It dissolved in laughter, light and love when the moth came in …
Thanks Rebecca, it’s longing that keeps the poem open for the heart. It’s also a craving… I crave the poem with a sweet tooth, but it doesn’t always have to be the richest cake. Sometimes cookies and a glass of milk will do :)
I see the WE we are in the fields, rivers and stars. And it’s there in the poems and conversations we have. Sometimes I see it in the blinking moment of peacefulness, and so it makes me happy that I see it with you.
Very well said…