Forty comes and with it sorrow.
Dream might have been
something more.

 

Thirty came and with it a dream
that life might be
something more.

I lit candles alone, but had
son, not yet two,
to adore.

Winter horseback riding lessons
on Tuesday nights
cleared my mind.

In safe circle one Friday night
I laid heart bare,
told it all.

By day I worked, again by night,
took nature walks
in between.

Six months gone by, then such surprise:
the interview,
the job. You.

When I showed up a day early,
you glanced back, winked.
I promised

To stay for life if you’d let me,
agreed quickly
to ten years.

[ A pledge, incidentally, in
abstentia
I honor. ]

In my new home, a white rabbit
came to wood’s edge
each morning.

The Braves won the series, moving
from worst to first,
just like me.

Life opened a path before me.
I could live out
my calling.

And for that year I still believed.
I knew God had
made a way.

On New Year’s Eve, by candlelight,
I resolved to
give my all –

To spend myself in gratitude
for chance you had
given me.

And so I did, burning quickly
as passion’s flame
extinguished.

Years after, those before, awash –
all’s forgotten
save the dream.

These moments preserved: you open
your hands, release
dream in me. 

 Forty comes and with it promise.
Dream may yet be
something more.