The Poem Comes Back...

Not even twelve hours later, the poem came back to me, courtesy of T. Rasul Murray.

My recollection was a little off, but not the sentiment.  

It was the reflection, indeed, that she saw in his heart, not an image, or a picture, or an otherwise artificial representation.  She saw herself in him, unaltered and true.  How love should be, what it should inspire.

I want to be the kind of man that inspires this kind of love.

The Photo of Love
for James E. Miller III

Almost everyday

I see my reflection in your heart

No longer a superimposed image

Hidden in shadows of metaphors

No imaginary house playing

where children dream

where teenagers grope

The picture has become clear in scope

Has become a smile up from my toes

You have presented me with a gift

Framed in gold

Fragrances of jasmine and Spanish Moss

And you've given me an open heart that

Calls to the woman in me

I answer you in song

Primal celebrations

Life finely focused

--Brenda Connor-Bey