This Season

This season I will grow time
pull it out of my sleeves
like magical Mr. Mistofelees
so when my youngest looks at me
with her shy and longing smile
and inquires, “Is today a school day for you?”
I will answer, “No,” and make it
all about her, even if I must wake
before dawn and stow the bike
and put away the computer
and forget for once what
I’m having for lunch the next day,
all so we can sit together on the couch
and cuddle with a book,
sing the songs she loves to hear
from my tone-deaf larynx,
and have all the time in the world.

Time

Most times I try to feel the sun above
but sometimes the clouds hang over our love
and sometimes I forget your sugary taste
while life’s problems surround me in their haste
but when I take the time to truly breathe
in my veins you fill me with pure relief
and this moment becomes like the first time
and just as it was then it is divine
I ask myself why I’ve waited so long
to sing your name in this glorious song,
to share with you the ever-fervent fire
that ignites this time of our sole desire.

Your answer whispers to me through the day:
With few words, this is what you’ve tried to say.