“Have you ever met someone—someone with such a soul,
A beautiful soul.
Not that I believe in souls, but you understand metaphors.
They have a presence about them—
An aura.
And when you’re in it, you
Feel like you can just be,
Whatever that means—just be,
And that you can make room, make
Home. And when that
Presence leaves, you feel an ache—a deep ache,
Heartache?” I asked.
“I feel that with you,” I went on.
“I want to bask under the shade of your tree,
Every single leaf, take root.
I want to read all your stories, the words never written.
I’ll recite them.
If you asked me to pick a side, I’d say, draw the line, I’ll
Stand. I want to worship at your alter, bowed. I’m already
Kneeling.
“I guess what I’m trying to tell you—maybe in too many words,
If you,
Ever want someone around—
Even to just sit and read old books with (I know how you love History), I’ll
Sit with you,” I said,
Waiting for him to say,
Sit with me.