I have to admit
It is strange to have a Valentine
To barely discern the oval curve of your face
In the dim light of morning
And feel the gentle wave of your breath
Closing the brief distance between us
To sense the steadiness of your vibration
And most of all to witness your unguarded smile
In response to a touch;
After decades in other now far away domains
Barren lands where hard labor rules
And shards of broken crockery litter the hard ground
Where silence contains that which is to be avoided
And speech the well-practiced cadence of fear.
Now, to believe in the reality of gentleness
Of saying and hearing preserved in union
Of care for a partnership long anticipated but unrealized
Of laughter that emerges unexpected out of pure ambiguity
Of presence that sustains when absence might be more convenient
Or certainly possible.
Yes, it is more than a bit strange to have a Valentine
Strange in a way so welcome and, yes, unexpected
To have a heart in one’s hands, and to give one’s own to another
When care, though uncertain, is so much more than implausible,
And the joyful surprise that
The space between is filled with belief.
So please believe with me on this day
In the simple message of my love
That is delivered in my touch
And is said always and in all ways in the silence
To you
My first true Valentin