I wonder why

Every day of my life

Is not spent

Sitting and

Staring

At you.

Will you speak

So freely

And feel your

Heart pound

Like a child’s

As he runs and jumps

Through his field

Of careless dandelions?

And tries to catch

The setting sun?

Cradle it

Within

Open Arms?

When he first 

Discovers

That elusive experience

Of being

Open and true

And alive?

Will you let me in?

Will you let me feel

That heartbeat

Through the pulse

Racing down into

Your fingers

As you relate

Every feeling that

For so long

Caused you such

Intense fear?

Some days

We may walk

And talk

Rather than sit

And stare;

To me,

All that matters

Is that you

Are here.

To me,

All that matters

Is that you feel

Careless

As the dandelion field,

Noble

As the sun.

All that matters

To me

Is that you feel

Alive

Like the young boy

And open,

Like his arms.

2012