Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

Stop if you've heard this one before, climb onto
another rock as you jiggle life's rope to
safety.
The stiff cliffs, the shifting rocks,
the boulder you're sitting on.
The story of love begins in a dream.  It is
known to smother people in their sleep.
Once there was a man who wanted to fly around
the Everest, and that's when love tipped her hand
landing him by the camp side and the lonely dispatcher
sending SOS for stranded climbers.  
He had seen her before, more than once, in his dreams
He was the first man to touch her hands in years. 
The wooziness brought on by the altitude didn't make things easier.
In the hours that followed she barely noticed him and then, 
when all hope was lost, she went out the tent for a smoke.
"I'm sorry," he said, for whatever it was worth.  
In her grief and sorrow she weakly smiled back. 
The ropes are a reminder we are all disconnected.
Do you believe in all of this? Interconnectedness?
Love's an illusion, stick to it, one day you'll need the rope.

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