The way it goes

Words make us
           they are the flesh
of our hopes
           our dreams
our expectations
           nothing exists
without articulation
           not the sea
not the shore
           not the salmon
rising in the river
           nor the red rose
that blooms
           in your garden
and each day
           each moment
is the creation
           of that moment
and the love
           we make
we remake
           time and time
again because
           life is always
one step ahead
           of history
and so I long
           for your kiss
as though
           I had never
been kissed
           before : long
for the soft curve
           of your body
within my grasp

we never tire of roses
           much less of love
life is eternal
           composition
love its one true
           expression
words merely
           the medium

John Lyons