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"In the Still of the Night"
The Me in Me
I'd written him in all my art,
my lover, friend, and Knight,
the man who would enlace my heart
with care and stalwart might.
A painted picture of my dreams
expressed in every tale,
in every writing of the scenes,
oft saved from stormy gales.
The dreams I drew, I never found,
my seeking reached an end,
in loneliness my heart was bound,
despite my many friends.
I wrote in poems I'd saved myself
for he who'd make me whole,
but hid in fear upon the shelf,
and buried living soul.
Then soft, he whispered all my dreams,
a humming in my mind,
and with each sound another seam
of yearning he defined.
He came to me and stood my friend
and slowly made me see,
I'd never find my journey's end,
'til I saw the me in me.
I struggled more to write the words
to tell him all my dreams.
He showed me that I'd never heard
just what my essence means.
He gently took each part of me,
each void of icy cold,
and filled it with the part that he
saw matched my empty soul.
He took my insecurity,
foundation of my essence,
and filled each lack with surety,
doubt wilting with his presence.
The empty yearning that I felt,
as woman never needed,
died quickly in each part he dwelt,
in every void he seeded.
As ev'ry part was more defined,
each wonder laid to rest, then
he showed me why I couldn't find
the answers to my question.
I'd never known the me in me,
I'd never found my soul,
the one that fate had made to be
completion of my whole.
I know he cannot be for me,
by someone else he'll stand.
My need is more than he can be,
he'll never take my hand.
Still all I can now ever be
is woman I have found,
the full soul that he helped me see,
by fate to him is bound.
And I still possess an emptiness,
but a very different kind,
and a different kind of loneliness,
that this bond helped me define.
And I dream now in the empty dark
of a Lady with no Lord,
who struggles in a landscape stark,
bound by a fateful cord.
Still, I walk with him in fantasy,
will be with him 'til the end,
and someday in reality,
I may meet my cherished friend.
So, I thank him for his tender care
and the self that makes me whole,
for the many times he took to share
the treasure of his soul.©
~RAC 2-29-99~ |