You know what it’s like <br />- surely you do – <br />you introduce one of your bestest friends <br />to another bestest friend, <br />hoping for something wonderful.. <br /> <br />and they shake hands warmly, <br />greet each other, <br />then find nothing to say.. <br /> <br />so you leave the room, hoping that <br />they’ll start by saying something about you, <br />then find how much else they have in common; <br /> <br />if you come back, and they’re talking so vigorously <br />that they soon leave together, forgetting you… <br />a little child in you may be sad a moment, <br />but the grown-up will rejoice <br />that great things may come of it… <br /> <br />but if you come back, and <br />there’s still a strained silence… <br />and later, each of them implies <br />they can’t understand why you like <br />that other one so much… <br /> <br />that’s why I’m a little fearful <br />of introducing Rilke and Rumi to each other… <br />since they both live in a place <br />where I’d like to walk too, <br />and listen to them talking to each other.. <br /> <br />but suppose they didn’t get along, <br />I don’t think I could bear to hear <br />why not… <br /> <br />All this in my head, chatting <br />with my heart… <br />and not the movement of an eyeball <br />to tell you this. You’ll understand, <br />I hope, now that I’ve mentioned it. <br />There’s love somewhere there.<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/two-poets-2/
