Sometimes the best poems come to you when it's the middle of the night and you're just thinking.
And while you're thinking you find another way of saying something made you happy.
Or that you're sorry.
When we met again
this time under friendly circumstances
your eyes were different.
I had played the card that threw up the wall
and communication had to struggle
through the cracks
before it could be digested
or understood in its true form
which was terrifying coming from you.
You were pressing the doors open
as they crushed you
in front of me
and you pushed the blame away
and appointed reason in its place
as ruler of the lands.
But you love danger
and overthrew my iron fist
taking it into yours and kissing it soft
until the wall evaporated
and you saw everything,
all the imperfections of my kingdom
that are so easy to uphold
through distance.
You only had to ask me once.
And as the pressure of you
decended on the land
the people rejoiced in your return
and celebrated
and drank in all they could
for time was limited.
And as you stepped over
the fallen wall to leave
your eyes were wet,
and your face was light,
and the lands parted
under friendly circumstances.
And the leaders slept
tear stained
until the next time the sun
would come shine on their
open faces.
-For Mike, Aug. 5, 1998