The poets among us know that when things creep up in your system the only way of getting them out is words, arranged on a page, in a way that only a poem can transmit. And so I share with you today what has crept up from my feet, through my legs, up my spine, and out of my head:
My passion for you, like any other passion,
Billows like wind in the sails of a gargantuan boat
And as the wind comes in and out of the sails
Swelling back and forth
Breathing in and out like a beast
But remaining small in relation to the great expanse around
The ocean that contains.
The boat, the sails, the breath—contained.
But my passion is hardly enclosed
And I remain curious, expectant, at how
In the grand scheme of things
Will I ever.