HOW COULD SHE NOT

And today, a poem...

How could she not love
your kind and glorious
heart,
shooting out sparklers into the dark,
exclaiming
“Here I am!  Come out and play!”

How could she be immune to
your rose petal lips
cutting velvet streaks
here and there and
here and
here

Is she from another planet?
The obvious Mars, or maybe
even Jupiter?
Does she do everything in reverse?
Speak a different language?
Gag at the taste of
Holiday Spice?

Is she mute to the tone of
your voice,
like honey-blossom tendrils
wrapping everything it touches
in succulent sweetness and
whispered caresses?

Does she just happen to
be looking
the other way
when you
suddenly pulse
and glow,
lighting everything in
your wake?

Is she numb?
Or simply unaware
of every sacred moment
that you hold so freely in every
4-hr. conversation?

And in the same breath
that I wonder and
ponder, so
perplexed and bewildered,
I offer up a prayer of gratitude and
surrender;
Oh, thank you, thank you!!
That she didn’t and couldn’t...

Please carry her
to he who calls her singular name
across the Winds of Love.
Let her be healed by his touch;
scooped up and
rocked  to
their own
secret lullaby.
Beloved forever.