I just came upon this. It’s something that I must have written quite recently for somebody or for some reason, but I can’t remember anything about it. Such is the nature of a slowly advancing senility (I almost mistakenly wrote ‘salinity’ there – and I am, indeed, growing increasingly salty). I may have even posted it somewhere on here already – I just can’t remember.

So I’m not actually sure of what it’s supposed to be about, but I think it has something to do with the fruitless search for love when love is all around us and how we tend to not see the forest for the trees …. I think it has something to do with giving up on the search for perfection only to discover that perfection is to be found in imperfection, not only in others, but in ourselves. I think it might be about acceptance.

But I could be wrong, because, as I say, I can’t actually remember writing it.

**

Shake the tree to see what falls, on

Hands that through a forest crawls

Forever onward t’ward the light

Ever upward, birds in flight, might

Always be a sight to see, please

Forgive me of my vanity

Our wedding night we shall not sleep, on

Vows that we could never keep

 

And when the morning comes at last

When all our nights have been surpassed

We two loves might meet again

Meet in dreams of mornings when

At every moment, arms entwined

Any movement thus enshrined, in

Time, and in our memory

Again together. You and me.

**