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TEN YEARS From: The Chronicles of a Lover, (For Diane, written July 11,2008: On 10 Year anniversary)
You are gone, my dear, on a trip to see family. I am here, alone, with a house full of beautiful things. Every room, wall, and hallway, tells a wonderful story; Of Love’s grand work in the fusing of our lives and hearts. Sitting quietly in this refuge we’ve built together, I feel, in the atmosphere, the presence of an invisible symphony. It plays a soft, constant melody which fills the empty areas, making them full, pleasant, and desired. The song is an old and new one; its lyrics, not yet finished, its Psalmist: the Muse, the spirit of special moments, or possibly an invisible frequency; a station our love has created. It has no end: a composition constantly and currently composed. The pictures that you’ve hung in their right place come to life. They’ve always been alive; only now, in silence, I see them. Moments in time captured in film forever living a scene; Living memories, tiny plays, the actors: fibers of our past. Ten Years: the name of this masterpiece- a collage of yesteryears’ special moments, linked by the thread of our four hearts. Each frame I peer into is a tiny portal, a window into the past taking me to places we’ve laughed, kissed, visited, and played. Though my heart longs for you to come home quickly, and the ability to sleep without your body next to me fails, it has taken the absence of your presence to awaken those sleeping senses of remembrance and retrospection. The stresses of the present -only multiplied by the goals, hopes and dreams for our future -have a way of locking away those treasured moments which season each day, making our times of stress, bearable, manageable, even desirable. Ten years live in this house. Ten wonderful years; the best in my life. Ten years with the woman I love more than life and children that I will never deserve. Ten years of paradise living on the walls, in the rooms, and in dresser drawers. Though we have not lived in this house for ten wonderful years, this box, I clearly see, is not the place or the destination. It is the spirit that fills this house, which makes it come to life: assuming the personality of those things we have brought from the last ten years. I am reintroduced to expressions of love for me-by you, and actions, and touches, and kisses, and embraces, and tears, which more than absolutely back every single word. The beating of your heart for mine, and mine for yours is the life-pulse of this home; this time machine- to ten. I do believe in you. I do believe the promises. I do believe in the future. Ten years speak to me, telling me of years to come. Ten years of an unmatchable past set the stage for the next chapter. Ten Years whisper “The best is to come; the first ten: merely foundation.” And with the melody softly soothing my soul, and the actors playing for me scenes from yesteryear, and the atmosphere embracing me with visions of you, I am warmly submerged under the current of Ten years, and I am securely confident of our happily-ever-after.
Thank you, my Love, for the last Ten Years
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Contact Samuel Connelly 316.640.8229 Obviously I sell most of my writings, so I don't give the best stuff online, however, I am not opposed to handing out a few morsels and other tasty treats, so feel free to sample some of my stuff that has been published in either literary magazines, online, or in writing contests. Other Poems by SamTheWriter
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