Through you I lose myself
That, which is everything and nothing 
All at the same time
...
        
            Brave hearts
dare to die their truth
Young hearts
virginal by youth
...
        
            The first echo of you was the hard split and groan of falling timber 
Before I found you there labouring lugging logs all boyish and burly
Arms strong like trees your tawny hair wilder than the forest’s foxes
Wood piled higgledy-piggledy atop the trailer to spark off the revelry
...
        
            Truth. The speckled egg
No separating its substance
You have not the extravagance of telling just a fleck
Nor merely exposing some part of pale ashen shell
...
        
            You asked me how I picture it all
those panoramic dreams
carved, chiseled and chipped 
crafted with my imagination.
...
        
            Pity those who play life safe
And never feel the rain
To feel alive it must be said
Sometimes you risketh pain
...
        
            And then it came.
When we least expected it
one week in July
hitching a lift
...
        
            Suspended in a sacredness behind the export of our troubled minds
Beyond the hums of our heads and hot pulses of mortal veins
It lingers tolerantly, a timeless and patient custodian of the world
Mocking our darling masquerades but observing them lovingly
...
        
            You slouched on a hard plastic chair outside my room 
Head low, shoulders hunched, looking sullen
Your voice one of indifference over the phone
But there you were. Punctual, waiting patiently
...
        

 
                    