Love Poem From the Past

[Today I posted a love poem at Poetry Pantry for Poets United that made me think about that man in the 1980's I never really stopped loving. The other poem can be found here:

http://stardreamingwithsherrybluesky.blogspot.com/2010/07/these-days.html

I decided to post this poem here this morning, in the spirit of reverie.

This man and I between us had five teenagers and a seven year old, so it was a miracle we lasted the year and a half that we did. All of the teenagers were acting up, no one was adjusting and, though I still loved him, I moved out to return my children to equilibrium, which didnt happen anyway. Within the next couple of years, three of them were out on their own.

I wrote this during our last months together. His favorite saying was "No easy answers", when what I wanted was commitment and "we'll get through this". The fact that my feelings never changed for him, and have lasted all these years, shows me perhaps I should have stayed. But I was accustomed to putting my kids first, and he let me go without protest, in itself an answer. In those days, I wrote on an old manual Underwood typewriter my Grandpa gave me when I was 11. I remember sitting out back in the indoor greenhouse, and typing this. I never had to change one word. I handed it to him, asking "Please dont laugh at me" and how he came to find me and hold me, after he read it. Sigh.

Here's the poem:]

THOUGHTS THAT DIDNT MAKE IT AS A POEM
September 15, 1983

sometimes I'd like
to just chase clouds
and dream,
roll downhill
through buttercups
and clover
and pretend
there'll be a time
someday
when all the
pain and struggle
will be over.

When I lie beside you
my tears are not for joy
(though there is joy
in all I've found
in you)
but for chagrin
that even in finding
all I have been seeking
it's still real life,
each day
with its own struggles
and I still must stay
so strong.
Not halving the load,
each of us packs
his own burden,
and all we can
hope to do
is try to comfort
and take comfort in
each other.

Hello,
fellow traveler.
Your path is
so like mine.
Like two oxen in a field
did we stumble
and stagger
over rocks
and hillocks
to meet
and try to pull
our load
in tandem.
How we fight
the bitter harness,
our eyes raised
skyward
to where
the world
is free,
up to our knees
in mud
with a head
full of dreams,
flogging
flogging
-to what avail?-

hello, Brother Dreamer.
When you hold me,
comfort
is the only word
I know.
I see
your spirit
striving
and I admire
your beauty
for surviving.

Let me help you.
Let me tell you
how you help me
by giving me days
when I feel life is all
I ever wanted it to be.

And on days
when my spirit
cries
it doesnt want
any more
just no more
pain and struggle,
you help me
just by being there,
you share,
and in your sharing
you bring forth
all my caring.

Hello, friend.
Your hand in mine
doesnt make
the load any lighter
but it sure
feels friendly.
And there is
a rightness
being here
with you
that I dont need
to put words to.
I'm glad
I didnt miss
this part of
the highway,
so much nicer
walking here
with you.
I'd have missed
so much
I'm learning
on my own.
And I may cry
sometimes
because
there is no
easy way
but all I have
to do
is look at you
to know
I'd rather
share the struggle
here with you
day by day
than take
the easiest path
leading any other way.