Friday, August 24, 2012

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

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