Hearts and Flowers
By
Brooke E. Wayne
Tonight we ride the
wild bull with wild flowers in my hair,
And a whirlwind of
impatience reaches a calmness,
Through misty waters
pressed with fog,
From a lingering
dream some time before.
Let our minds wander,
Never too far from
home,
And journey beyond
that precious place
We once believed
would keep us forever.
And all that we feel
will be reflected in our eyes,
Surrounding our
laughter,
Expressed within our
presence
As we smile blindly
beyond the sun
Like children,
Gazing into Heaven
with thanksgiving.
We are and were
before we knew—
Destiny held us in
His hands.
For God’s breath is
inside our souls
To carry us into
Eternity, long after our time,
Well spent,
Has cast shadows on
any doubt drifting in from the past.
For in His eyes we
are one—
Flesh of my flesh
As we have promised
to be together.
Amidst any garden of
roses,
Your love is purer
than the rain that feeds the stems.
For I am merely one
petal,
Capturing the dew of
angel’s tears
Like liquid kisses
trickling down my neck.
The colors, never
muted within your smile,
Glow brightly in my
eyes as we look upon the future.
I see Heaven
Surrounding a place
in our dreams,
Where simple
pleasures, unfolding in our love,
Once sacrificed their
time.
Our lives entwined—
Yielding to moments
impressed into our hearts.
We saunter, hand in
hand, along our deserted shore,
Underneath that
silver tapestry
With clouds strewn
across an indefinite blue
Like islands in the
sky.
And when this world
has withered us,
We will walk on into
the Light.
For time will have
passed through our blood,
And the years will
have been but a song
On the tongue of our
Creator.
I wrote this when I
was 18 years old--in pen from beginning to end with zero editing, and I haven’t
changed a single word or grammatical faux pas since.
It’s been well over twenty years later, and I still look at
this poem as an anthem in my life. It
tells the story of true love from the ‘wedding night’ until ‘death do us
part’. Not too bad for a teenager who
knew nothing of love at the time I scratched it out on a piece of binder paper
in my bedroom one night. I borrowed my
simile, ‘like liquid kisses trickling down my neck,’ for the novel I’ve recently
completed. The line whispers to me on
Page 2 as a little secret that I’m letting you in on—a journey that I am still
traversing, as a writer of romance, bending my path into a full circle that
will keep tumbling towards traditional publication one day.
Happy Valentine’s Day,
xox Brooke E. Wayne xox
