A Matter For Poets
To love or be loved is a matter for poets
not those whose hearts are entwined.
With arms reaching out to enfold one another
love is sheltered, protected from time.
The moment consumes the grief from their past,
devouring all of their fear.
Everafter is found in the gentelest kiss,
while another erases a tear.
With peace in their soul, joy erups as quiet laughter,
to comfort the pain of broken dreams.
But the poet who sees yesterday and tomorrow
thinks the moment is not what it seems.