You gave me the secret in your heart
long ago. I have continued to grow by it.
Love does not dissolve in air,
or turn to ash and dust—
unless, of course, we carelessly let it.
How the years multiply through decades,
turning my white bones toward sleep.
But we are still here, our magic proliferates,
the touch of love and magic made us complete—
even the way you say my name proclaims it.
Once I was a space that needed to be filled—
beginnings are beginnings, I never imagined
there was such strength in beauty
until lifted by the lightest touch of wings.
Garden City Park