Gods sat in bamboo chairs and made <br />strange gestures, man is so afraid <br />he lacks esteem, his mind is odd <br />he longs yet cannot be a god. <br />Man looks to the horizon's ridge <br />but overlooks nearby, the bridge. <br />He frets, so hands cease beckoning <br />and chooses thus a reckoning, <br />he whispers to his inner ear <br />denies the coward's heavy fear <br />protect and serve, he says aloud <br />his breath gives life to a dark cloud <br />and as he seeks the cooling shade <br />ye gods pour down their lemonade. <br />Small drops descend and kiss the cave <br />no warrior could betray the brave, <br />he sees the beauty of creation <br />but hurries to the subway station. <br />What was ordained will never be <br />and she, the wife, stands like a tree <br />she is not his, and soon is found <br />a statue, frozen to the ground. <br />And while her senses seek their trance <br />the southern breezes come to dance, <br />come drink ye bees and butterflies <br />wipe salty tears from hopeful eyes, <br />and pigeons living near the Lake <br />take one small word for love's own sake. <br />Like angel dust love graced my skin, <br />united we will be in sin. <br /> <br /> <br />For my drippy little swimmer girl.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/close-we-were-meant-to-be/
