Still In Love
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Still in love,
with his eyes, he asks
(as the moon asks the earth)
for a dance, spinning
to music only we can hear.
Two become one in song,
as in the infancy of marriage -
newlyweds who danced, all for love.
With his eyes, he asks
(as the river asks the grass)
for a hand to hold, swaying
side-by-side over ages
of profuse weeds thick with lace,
and the sunflowers nearby droop
late in season, heavy with seed.
Before first snow, it is time
to teach our children to dance.
Love, we have learned, will carry on.
Still in love,
with my heart, I reply
(as the cherry blossoms answer the wind)
in a twirl of my floral skirt, growing
young again with a twinkle of hazel
skies shone bright in my eyes
and in a familiar smile.
He feels my warmth without seeing my face,
our union completed without words.
And so, we dance
from wedding day kiss and
one day, into bliss of heavenly light
(as the universe dances, eternally).
I write him a poem to thank him
for creating music with his love,
only our feet recognize.
Still joined in life, souls flow
through green, through our limbs,
down into our roots -
a dance to last through sun and storm,
feet in time forevermore,
all because he asked,
and still, I love him.
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2017
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