I am a sycamore
stretching my sculptured limbs and branches
towards full moonlight
while my roots draw the Wabash River into me.
You are a cactus
simultaneously reaching out
and growing towards the painted sky
in the dry heat of the desert-
your lifeblood flowing into you
from some unseen underground spring.
We bloom where we are planted-
but would one of us wither and die
if transplanted?
Likely, not-
yet, I believe we grow most beautifully
where we are,
putting forth our best selves.
Sometimes,
I believe that there might be a someday
where I take your last name
and hyphenate it with my own
on bylines and taglines.
Sometimes,
I picture the sanctuary of my church
bathed in candlelight
and filled with people
as I walk towards you
wearing white,
my face aglow with love.
Sometimes,
I dream of
holding each other so closely
in passionate love
that our naked bodies blend
to create us
from you and me.
Sometimes,
I hold out hope
that we can find lasting love
built from interludes
placed between
my enjoyment of the changing seasons
and
yours of the desert panorama.
There are some, after all,
who spend their entire married lives
under one roof
yet know little more than loneliness,
while
-even across the miles-
we connect in such a special way
that the color of our world
turns to rainbow.
What lies ahead of us
lies ahead of us,
and all I know is this:
When the year was still new,
a sycamore and a cactus
somehow became entwined,
and the desert burst into bloom
while diamonds glittered
in the newly-fallen snow!
Ainsley Jo Phillips
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/entwining-blooms-to-russell/
