We were Steven and Kathy.
We curled up together
amidst the rocks and dust of the desert floor.
Cassiopea whirled overhead
until we opened our eyes
to the salmon orange streaks
of the desert dawn.
And I can see your eyes again,
The entrance to the cave of your soul,
An interior landscape that I roam into
With my feelings, with my hands.
I say to myself that
There is no other place
I would rather be
Than next to this magnificent creature,
This baby dragon
Who only now begins to sense his own power
And feel the way down destiny’s path.
Our paths cross here
In this place of steaming springs,
The heat welling up around us like an intimate caress.
The bamboo that hides the sun,
All green and beige against the pure blue sky,
Holds us in its raspy embrace,
In the seat of its heart.
And I can see you again,
All perfectly white skinned and glowing,
All alive, so alive,
Breathing so seriously and calm.
I say to myself that this is our time,
This present moment,
And I strive with all my awareness,
To let go of my thoughts,
To be in this place
Where I would rather be than any other place.
The brutal sun gives way to cool winds
As we laze in the shade of a huge cottonwood tree,
Rising up above the cactus and sand
And sheltering a tiny grassy meadow,
Just big enough for a blanket and a crumpled Book of Lao.
I can hear your voice again
Wrapping itself around the unfamiliar words,
And yet beyond that
seeming that you could have written the ideas yourself,
no one person being more than another.
And I try to understand who I am to you,
Who you are to me,
Trying to understand
without the words that define things,
But at the moment of utterance
Alter the very thing that they define,
Dispelling the magical mystery of emotions and passion.
It is impossible for me to hold you fast forever,
And still just as impossible to ever really be apart.
I am satisfied that there is no other place I’d rather be
Than inside this body,
Knowing you are alive to me
Somewhere, where our paths are still star crossed.