Lugh’s Garden

It comes like a flood,
This drowning thing they call love,
To wash us away
Like so much straw on the tide,
Or carry us to heaven.

Like dancers, dancing,
To a song they can not hear,
Or leaves on the wind,
Riding the unseen currents,
Lovers must always obey.

Love has no planning,
Nor great celestial guidance.
It comes from inside,
Mixing matter and spirit
In the vessel of your soul.

Love is not a choice,
Love is just a reaction
To what the eye sees,
And secrets on the air, that
The nose whispers to the heart.

Without permission,
Sometimes without your knowledge,
Love pushes itself
Right to the head of the line,
And you just smile and give in.

But once in a while,
When the wind ceases to blow,
And the music stops,
A terrible emptiness
Can be found, where once was love.

Then you must gather
All the moments of beauty
You can remember,
Fill the emptiness with them,
And know love will come again.

I see you in little things,
Like sunlight on colored glass,
And how the breeze from the door
Starts the hanging brooms spinning.

I see you in the music
That plays on my radio,
And how your words sometimes sit
On my tongue, like they were mine.

I see you in the poems
That spill from your heart, like blood,
At the feet of those you love,
Making them shed tears of joy.

I see you in the morning,
Breaking bright, blue, and open,
Waiting for the clouds to dance
In their do-si-do dresses.

And I see you in the night,
Sitting still, by a candle,
Praying that the love you have
Will not fade; knowing it will.

Most of the time, I see you
Sitting behind the fountain
From which your love flows, giving
More than we’ll ever deserve.

Come to me slowly,
Like honey in the winter,
An amber river,
Bringing a bit of sweetness
To the bitter meal of life.

Come to me singing
A Sunday song, filled with love,
And Southern rhythms,
Clapped by hardened Southern hands,
To the faith of Southern hearts.

Come to me smiling,
Like sunrise after a storm,
When raindrops sparkle
Like gems in a flower’s crown,
Or love’s laughter in your eyes.

Come to me once more,
As you have come in my dreams,
Filling me with warmth,
And a promise that I shall
Know again, a woman’s love.