It must have been the night
and our two hears beating within it,
that quickened into some fire,
some light, some kind of life,
that seemed to keep us
through the pitch and roll of friction
against so many obstacles unseen
in the dark.
It was the transom in our refuge,
our only buttress;
that afforded us the safety in the storm
and sure passage through
the wild and unknown night,
that shrieked of violence and disorder
and on all sides of us,
the clamor and the wailing.
Then I took my leave,
but for a moment
and if I knew terror and abandonment
in the specter of that night;
alone and unmoored
from that light that bound me home,
then I know that you
felt that same creeping fear,
that knowledge,
deep in the bones,
that something was fundamentally wrong.
Thank God that was only but a moment;
for in that mournful separation,
I felt the fingers
of doubt and fear
reach out for me from the inky blackness.
And even on our reunion,
that light flickered;
dulled slightly,
but still guiding us
on through that endless, black night.
I have never known
an amulet more precious,
a stone, nor metal
with more value,
than that which forges the bond
we have together.
I have never seen a sunrise,
even one as welcome as one
delivering us from the dark unknown,
that can match the radiance
of two hearts entwined.
There is no value in the world
worth risking its loss
and I will never risk
that light again.
For soon,
night comes.
HG – 2017
