For love of laura:
Everpresent, ever-bright,
Unquenchable fire.
I named you Laura.
We talked about you for hours
As if you were real.
As if I know you--
I think in terms of Laura
What will you be like?
Images of you--
All the stages, all the looks,
All things you could be.
tIME keeps extending:
To days, to years--forever--
Scarring each moment.
Always the questions--
From my friends, from family--
From my friends, from family--
I can’t explain you.
I tell those who hear:
I know just what I’m doing.
But of course, I lie.
ONE YEAR is measured,
And I wait, anticipate
Things to say to you.
Waiting for you now,
Like waiting for the high tide,
You will arrive...soon.
You were just a dream--
Just a thought, a plan, a name.
You are. You will be.
Curled up in the mind,
Reality check: LAURA?
The fire has been set.
They’d call me crazy
If it weren’t for the dream
Of embracing you.
Dresses, dreams and more--
LAURA, the world waits for you.
Your family waits.
My child, treetop-bound,
Arms and legs a blur, rising,
Ascending the world.
Child over cat--freeze!--
One second to catch the sight,
Then gone, both running.
Kept up by child screams,
LAURA, allergic to summer,
Now sleeps by the fan.
Mental snapshots: yes.
Of a child as yet unborn,
Can’t wait to hold.
Her fear of falling,
Descending stairs, she hold on
Tightly, then laughs.
Riding through tunnels--
Through open windows she screams
And laughs,laughs, laughs, laughs
I prepare for you.
I am to be inspected--
Found worthy/wanting.
Pages torn from books,
To be rewritten, n time,
By fragile fingers.
Red, white, blue blocks--up!
Sky-scraping, room cluttering,
Filling up your world.
Energy compressed,
Held tightly within your soul,
Prepared for RELEASE.
Captured arms and legs,
You pull me down to your eyes,
And I can’t escape.
Crackerjacks with prize,
Little fingers tear the box,
Scattering the crumbs.
Now, you are singing,
High, sweet voice--this is your song--
Ascending sweetly.
You are jumping rope,
Keeping cadence with your friends,
With your childlike chants.
I’ll trip on your toys--
Remnants of your busy day
Scattered on your wind.
From stories to sleep,
The slender thread leads to dreams
And back to daylight.
Crayon-deco walls
Washed clean--again, again--
Just for you, washed clean.
The world’s your toy-box.
You possess the continents,
The islands, and more.
There was a time, once,
A friend took time to teach me
What it is to dream.
And she is watching
To see if i understand--
Truly understand.
Like a spool, around
Which a thread is wound and wound,
You are my center.
Copyright (c) 1991 by the author
