A Tender Meet

a poem of lovers' hope

Protect me
from the pain of you,
the loss of you,
the undoing of what we made.

Meet me
again in the fields of grace
so you may drum
and I shall dance and face

the days of grey,
the sorrow of gay
beginnings ending and
joy withering

with the fall
of leaves on our Earth;
it got cold.
Won't you hold me?

Keep me warm,
can we weather the storm,
where is the light?
Stop this fight.

Are we still serving?
Are we observing
our parts,
our hearts,

our kindred souls,
the visions
of my sacred bowl,
don't you see?

What's between you and me,
it dances,
it burns purple,
it takes away

pride and shame,
we've no one to blame.
Let's mend,
let's tend.

Let's meet again.