My Brow, Your Brow (day 953)

How do you commit to someone
To accept one entirely?
For it isn’t just a walk about
Strolling arm in arm…
Nor is it even a moment laughing
To which the poke’s about.

When I sleep, I do not know
What the murmuring’s about.
And walking gaily, all alone
I shouldn’t dare to stop.
Nor when I sleep in my lone bed
Best guess I’m zig-zag hogging

Is it just when my brow’s a furrowed
That I must dig down deep…
Or when I’m afar, a lonesome distance
Away from my fair damosel?
For strong I am, a soldier here
A valiant man of fortune

And when I catch a glimpse of that
Which doesn’t mesh with thyself,
Is it my duty to embrace distaste?
Or fare me well, when I am proud
To turn my head and trod
Into horizon, into the end, farewell! Be off! Be gone!

No. It isn’t that.
This is not the way.
This is not my heart’s desire.
For my own brow,
And your worn brow,
Are forever joined to cherish.

So I do now know what comes of me,
What begs me to be done.
It’s simply a hand of mine, outstretched and outlaid
Accepting another’s sun, vast, wild, and aglow
In peace, enjoyment.. conquest ho!
We run together, apart.

Free to be a memory,
Or a child in incubation.
Free to hide, and free to glow,
And free to bring the world to me.
Free to hold and free to love,
And free to be with me!

Between the Hours (day 823)

I think I forgot my whispers
Ones that wrote of yonder Princes
Striking down foreign conquerors
Wooing fair maidens
And stringing hearts of a thousand courtly ladies
While helping down the fair damosel
Just returned from toxic waters of journeyed shores

I think I forgot to share my love
To shout aloud upon the clouds
About the sky I journeyed to
As the lofty journeyer goes
Where lost was I upon seeing the hawk
And starlings grow
But couldn’t I, in all my guise
Demand a prize forever young

I never knew
I never dreamed
I never sat about the stream
For there I was
Tranquility
Shallow waters
Lost thought

I think I forgot an ancient order
That chivalry demanded
And Providence triumphed
That lasted ’til the morrow gathered
Which never came for long was laughter
Long were hands that guided home
Between the hours of jubilee & rest