When You And I First Meet

Three years

In this our place of thought

A page remained

Unseen

Untouched

Despite its easy reach



In wait for one in five million souls

Perhaps it may be you

Year one

Year two

Year three

And then...



Each day I hide from view those parts of me that long for light

To hide, as much with love or hope

As with the claustrophobic fear that no one shares my view

For few and rare: the curious mind awaits



Here

Hear my voice

Speak one word before its end

This day of celebration

When you and I first meet

. . .


This poem forms part of the author's collected thoughts WITH AND ALONE