J’adore the pattern you leave on every surface you adorn —
It is the pattern of my life: meandering along lines governed by forces I cannot absolutely discern
except for the marks they leave upon my body,
upon this canvas of my life.
You put in words and feelings things which I have known
But scarcely to this moment dared to dream —
You scare me with the possibility you present
And call me to go boldly forth in those possibilities.
You are the living proof of my life’s impetus:
not by you, but through you
I know something
not of myself.
You are not my sole connection
but you are a connection from my soul
to every else —
the bond we share,
we share with every else.
When we are sick,
the world is sick.
When we are well,
the world is well.
The lives we lead
run in patterns parallel
and branch like the lines
you draw so well.
Some patterns are abandoned —
Some left till later date,
Some patterns drawn from longing
and others drawn from hate
some vary in their story,
some vary in their weight.
You are full of beauty; you are overflowing.