Six Vignettes for a Travelling Lover

Because my lover went on his 6-day riding trip, I wrote a poem in 6 parts — one for each day — for him to read while we’re apart.

SIX VIGNETTES FOR A TRAVELLING LOVER

1. Parting Gifts
As I watch the dust settle
Around fading footprints
And a disappearing shadow,
I swallow back tears and fears,
Washed down by ambrosia
Drunk from your lips —
Your breath and your poetry;
Parting gifts to represent
The one who’s miles away.

2. Butterfly Kisses
The smell of your breath is like a butterfly
That has rested for a moment on my lip,
And, called forth into the vast world, left,
Flapping its gentle wings and flying off
Into the void; into the short-lived unknown.
But you are no butterfly, and your love
Has longevity. Long after the butterflies
Have passed, our love will still remain.

3. Going Places
Where are you now? I wonder.
Somewhere on the road
Putting distance between us, but
Coming ever closer to my heart
Which, though yearning for you,
Remains unwaveringly composed
In the certainty of your return
And the firmness of our last embrace.

4. Building Bridges
I begin to see you in everything —
Walking beside me as I go places,
Gently swinging my hand with each step;
Grabbing me from behind and
Flashing me your wide grin.
This is how I get by each day:
When physical distance stops us,
I close my eyes, and imagination
Builds me a bridge straight to you.

5. Whispers
The words that you have spoken
Are slowly fading in the noise
Of time’s incessant footsteps —
Washed away by the wind
That howls in your ears.
But the texts remain as whispers
Of faith — promises of an eternity
Filled with the songs of your love,
And of your imminent return.

6. Ambrosia
Today you return
And I can almost
Taste your sweet
Presence as you
Walk through my
Door and hug me
Like the days and
Distances did not
Pass between us.
And the bubbles
Of joy come up
Through my throat
And spread on my
Tongue as I taste
The precious kiss
And drink of your
Ambrosia.