I look over my shoulder
you’re watching me,
with a green tree-frog sitting on your shoulder.
You’re both smiling.
So am I.
Your photograph goes on repeating its smile, day after day,
it never tires
or has a day off,
just waits to share a bit more of your enthusiasm.
You’re there as I wake each morning
reminding me we’re inseperable.
Even now I can hear you say,
“you know the river finds its way,
you know the tree was once a seed..."
Two thousand kilometres, seperate cities, seperate lives
serve the paradox of our closeness.
Your photograph reminds me
love will reveal itself with each day.
The 'I that loves you'
is beyond us both,
to understand it
is as impossible
as interpreting the smile of frogs or the speech of trees.
'I love you'
lives outside a definition;
there’s simply no explanation needed
as we inhale.
MChallis © 2015
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 11:05 PM UTC
I look over my shoulder
you’re watching me,
with a green tree-frog sitting on your shoulder.
You’re both smiling.
So am I.
Your photograph goes on repeating its smile, day after day,
it never tires
or has a day off,
just waits to share a bit more of your enthusiasm.
You’re there as I wake each morning
reminding me we’re inseperable.
Even now I can hear you say,
“you know the river finds its way,
you know the tree was once a seed..."
Two thousand kilometres, seperate cities, seperate lives
serve the paradox of our closeness.
Your photograph reminds me
love will reveal itself with each day.
The 'I that loves you'
is beyond us both,
to understand it
is as impossible
as interpreting the smile of frogs or the speech of trees.
'I love you'
lives outside a definition;
there’s simply no explanation needed
as we inhale.
MChallis © 2015
Request permission to use this poem