Thought-gold

Though you are far away from me tonight

Thought is not bound by miles of land or sea

And you are not so far away from me

I reach to touch you in the words I write

The henchman of an hour never sleeps

But snuffs each moment as it slips to naught

He is not able to embezzle thought

Nor can he reach to steal the charge it keeps

For thought shapes the persuasions of the heart

The heart can hold a myriad of hours

And though it seems that we are far apart

I touch you like the sun kisses the flowers

Love cradles in its thought the finer art

Of hope and prayer and all that this empowers

The pilferage of moments fills the clutch

Of days, then weeks to years to centuries

The proof of their passage is memories

And only thought this corridor can touch

Tonight you press against the dark incline

Of midnight’s keen yet muted eloquence

And I embrace thought’s tender recompense

Of moments that have fallen from the vine

Then you are not so far away from me

And Time, though measured in numeric stance

Is powerless to bind a memory

Or chain its feet, forbidding us to dance

The law of love and loss and poetry

Unites us in its everlasting trance

We shoulder cares; perhaps the spoil of toil

The heart though it may break, seals the caress

Of joy and sorrow’s valiant tenderness

While tear’s are but the off-spring of its moil

Tonight, though miles declare expanses vast

Twixt you and I; we know the truth of thought

It travels beyond measured chart or jot

We are not far apart; thought binds us fast

The entities that fill our fumbling hold

Fall uselessly beneath the gilded clime

Where hearts embrace and lovingly enfold

The fragments of a moment’s lilt and rhyme

In treasure-troves of precious thought-forged gold

Its coffers gleam with offerings of Time

© Janet Martin