Shall we walk, shall we rest?
Shall we be each other's guest?
Shall we speak of everything beneath the sun?
For a moment, for an hour,
Let us feel each other's power
Because for you and 'cause for me there's only one.
And if you go, don't be long
You inspire this song of songs
Washing over memories in an endless run
Think of me, I'll think of you
I'll think of others better, too
When friends are gone my thoughts will turn to only one.
The ripples on the afternoon lake shimmer
I hear a glimmer of the tune
And there you are
Clear as a star
A dish to race the spoon!
Over coffee, over dinner,
You've gone grayer, I've got thinner
News that never will be printed on page one
Build your house of stones and bricks
Oh, it's the end of politics
At this table I will drink with only one.
The falling of the evening tide is slacking
I hear your call to come inside
And there you are
Clear as a star
Your eyes are open wide.
When the sun falls to the moon
Skies turn black and chills come soon
Reminding us our life together will be done
Once again it's me and you
There's nothing else we'd rather do
But hold each other tight until we're only one.
About Me
- Anthony Zuba
- New York, New York, United States
- I was born Sept. 27, 1977, in Flushing, NY, and raised in North Babylon, NY. From the suburbs of Long Island I moved to the hills and gorges of Ithaca, NY, studying at Cornell University. There, my spirit was awakened, and everything changed. The Spirit that stirred my spirit brought me to Baltimore and then to Boston. I studied at Boston University School of Theology and learned better how I wanted to live. Today, I am a Capuchin Franciscan friar in perpetual vows. Yesterday, I was a community organizer in Boston, an editor in New York, and a teacher in Baltimore. Tomorrow, God only knows. Many things interest me, though nothing in particular. I have an abiding interest in living simply and living well. Life that is authentic interests me.
5 comments:
Your thoughts, Anonymous?
If this is you and a bit of what you wish to be, it would seem that you seek a life partner to grow old with. No more, no less.
I wonder how much of this is who I am, or am becoming. Here, I'm writing about something I don't understand, something I've never experienced, trying to imagine what someone in love for life with another would say to her. It could be me, but I don't know. It's telling that the first stanza is all questions. Shall we walk? Shall we rest? Shall we be each other's guest? Is that what the narrator wants? Well, that's unknown.
The first half of this song rings true. It's in the present moment. After that, it gets mushy.
The tone of this poem is so different from the mad passion of the prior one, that is for sure.
The previous poem, for its flaws, was closer to the truth. But this one, among recent efforts, is probably the best:
http://lettersalongtheway.blogspot.com/2009/04/holy-saturday.html
You want passion, you've got it here.
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