Overflowing with love

I went to the most fabulous wedding last night. My beautiful friend pledged to love and honor her man for the rest of her life. It was a wonderful evening. The toasts we so touching, there wasn't a dry eye in the house. The view over the Hudson was magical. I was with friends who I've known my whole life. We were all filled with joy, love and happiness. We told each other how much we love each other, how beautiful everyone looked, and generally gushed about how much everyone means to everyone. Weddings are such happy occasions that you can't help but look around, take stock of your life, and appreciate all the love you have in it. It makes you want to go find your special someone and hold them close. So, in honor of the emotional sap this little occasion has turned me into for the weekend, I present you with two of my favorite love poems. Now go give someone you love a hug. And a kiss.

The first is by E.E. Cummings:

somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be close to me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you the closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

The second is from a much lesser known poet. Her name is Kristen Savitri Bergh. She died tragically at age 17, but not before leaving behind a wonderfully gifted book of poems called She Would Draw Flowers. This is my favorite from the book. It is called To Zusha.

Forgive me
if I accidentally
slip and fall
into the rainbowed
pools of
your eyes
they are lined with crystals
and reflect the forest
floor

…..like incense in a fire
you burned unnoticed
your spirit curling sweet
and mysterious
hiding in their smoke and
ashes

……Oh but I love you ‘cause
you make my body want
to dance and I’m on fire
filled with your
cinnamon music