Love, I do

Love, I do,

these nights so alive,

my soul merges into them.

Silent, mysterious, powerful--

each is an eveningtime forest,

moonless in its mood,

haunted by gothic wind

and thickets of the once seen

impregnating my memory.


Waiting there in blackness

are days of being,

of days already lived.

There I find my story,

honest and alive.

There I remember

my joys and laughter,

my regrets and pains,

my desires and hopes,

my loves and heartbreaks,

that little boy’s dreams,

this old man’s fears.

All are there waiting.


Love, I do

these nights that be

not dark after all.

Nor lonely do I feel

with such fine company.

Once a distant, absent friend,

who so awkward my youth ignored,

who so wise my aging feared,

who so honest my ego fled,

now visits welcomingly.


In my dark woods,

He brings the light,

the way to another path,

and so opens up the world

wide and ageless and real.

He feeds my inside warrior

and slays my inside villain

He brings me love for women

and a smile for laughing children.

All is so simple here.

Yes, these nights of my life

when I await the soulful visit

from my dearest,

my closest friend,

from the one I name