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.