To open the door on a an empty room
And look down as your heart sinks;
To walk across, as your mind wanders
Through thoughts like wisps of smoke
From the cigarette, burning;
To sit on the bed and logically think,
Then hold a pen and grasp some words
Suspended in the haze around you.
To move black over white
Like a stick in the snow
To describe wondering plight -
Where have you been?
Where'll you go?
A hard fact in the cold
As the clock ticks aloud -
On your own you are bold,
But afraid in the crowd;
To wait and to smile
As you walk through the door
And look down at the child
Dropping ash on the floor;
To worry, wonder, laugh and cry,
To understand without knowing why,
To have and to hold
But never grow old;
To give, to try,
To live, to die,
To know that you know that
Is to love.
14 February 1971 First written and now published again on Valentine's Day. Something special, this one.