As I approach the first anniversary of y marriage to Cate (June 1),  I am re-sharing the poem I wrote soon after we reconnected.  In that moment, I realized I’d found the love of my life.   I pray for all who long for love to know it’s waiting for you too, if you are willing to give up the precious dribble that is keeping you from seeing it.  This is a love poem of the self.

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Beauty

My hope’s for you to see the beauty in my eye,

the beauty deep within you, as clearly as I.

For when you do you’ll know

that all the beauty of the world

through you will show.

And when you have it firmly in your mind,

when you are one with all,

and you have raised it brightly in your thought,

before the ego has a chance to make you blind,

marveling wildly at itself,

so hard it’s fought

and lost,

you’ll know your beauty’s true.

You’ll see what I have seen since time began:

the love I see in you has always been.

Is it you or me that makes my heart thus sing?

Or some other precious thing?

Now, I know I’m not alone in holding you in high esteem.

The very air I breathe also has you in it.

You will taste it too in just another minute.

Don’t hold back, relax your belly, take it in.

You are beautiful now and always will be.

And when you’re old and dying this will still be true.

And even after, in the leaves of trees still not even seeds.

They will be me and they will be you.

Because yours is a beauty that will never die.

And when it’s time for you to fly, don’t cry,

at least until I’m with you,

always through the years,

ever there to wipe away your tears

and cast away your fears.

 

Beauty itself needs to be enjoyed, for its own sake.

As if it were its own force of being, like love.

The stuff of the universe is directed by love

into marvels for the sake of beauty,

that it all might be loved.

And by loving, it is made even more beautiful.

And thus is the circle of life.

Like breathing in and breathing out.