You shine before the light,
All known light, except, of course, Jesus.
It is something one do not realize
With eyes wide open, but now that
Mine are at a slow close, sweetly,
Blinded by you, it suddenly hit me, braving
This expanding darkness, knowing
That love feels deeply and has deep faith
Which willingly abandons the sense of sight.

     I will see you. I see you...in a white dress.*

© 2017 J.S.P.

There is no way for you to know it, but
For me to say it, write it like I mean it,
A revelation, a firm oath, telling things like:
"My stubborn heart is a parked automobile
     Waiting to be towed away by you."

Because the word "Wait" can be deceiving.
To lie at our Homeland beach in the summer
Of 2017 could mean patience or indulgence.
To fall in line on a counter could mean
     Paying or just plain getting.
And to sit at a bus stop could mean
     Going home or leaving things behind.

And so this pen tries and tries and tries
And (because King Jehoash stopped short)
     Tries and tries and tries some more
To be a decent bouquet of flowers
Or an acoustic cover of a love song
Or a bag of truffles I never once tasted,
     Though you don't even notice.

Dearest, I'd rather pursue you
With all that I got knowing full well
That I can possibly fail than to stop short
And spare my self from shame.
I cannot go half-hearted. I'm all in.
     And I'm here to win your heart.

          So help me God.*

© 2017 J.S.P.

God must be really kind to spare you
From my impatience, but it only means
That you have to deal with my persistence,
     You have to tame my hard-headed heart.

It does not guarantee that I'd pursue you
With an equal amount of passion
Each and every time, but it certifies
That it can possibly withstand the length
Of wait it requires just to get into your heart,
And the objective is always not to captivate
     But to penetrate.

One's love must be generous, not stingy,
Nor cunning, nor selfish, nor proud,
For there's no sound sense in defeating
Your very purpose, being driven
By a hidden agenda. I'm in a battle
     Where I don't want to force a draw.
I'm here to help you win, against all pain,
     All fear, all doubts.

I want to be your warrior, princess of Jesus.
I want to be what I never got to be before.
I want to be a man, and man up
     For the cause which you deserve.

          You deserve, at all costs, to be loved.*

© 2017 J.S.P.

     Hope is active, it is a verb more than a noun. I cannot let it be defined by the weight or the length of wait, for patience is another thing. My hope is mobile, nomadic, hard-headed, went astray and was lost, but now is marching straight ahead, focused, headed towards your direction.

     If I have to settle in the uncertainty, allow in wilderness of time, just to find my self writing these silly love poems, then I'd rather live among the tents around your heart. I will stand by and for it and vow to guard. Shall I be doomed to be the fasting wolf that fends the other wolves away, then so be it. My heart will be yours as your secondary shield.

     I am persistence and I am endurance, because they have to go hand in hand, I cannot forsake one over the other, nor lose them both. I am an old train, diligent, opening all doors for one. I am a platform, wide, immovable, a place you can always stand on. And out of thousands and thousands of passengers, I am making up ny mind, you are the one I choose.

     You are the one I would wait and wait and wait and wait and wait and wait and (for the 7th time, for in the Bible 7 means completion) wait for, and pray for and gladly fight for, for you are worth it, all of it.

          Love perseveres.*

© 2017 J.S.P.

I want to be what I should be
In the context of consistency,
Your early morning ritual, the coffee
And the egg that you would like me to be,
     A habit you can never get rid of,
A certain pose for the cameras,
A certain post on Instagram, the way,
Exquisite, unique, and endearing
That your mouth motions, your lips lead,
Your cheeks cast the skip-a-beat
     Magic of your smile to my heart.

Dearest PVC, I want to learn cardiology.
I want to be the Michael Faudet
For your Lang Leav soul.
I want to move a japanese mountain,
Then be a sushi or a truffle, yes,
     I even want to be a truffle.

     And I just want to court you...
     ...like always...
          ...and after always.*

© 2017 J.S.P.