Valentine’s Day has come and gone but for me romance and love are all-year concepts that should be used to keep the fire burning. Not to say that on Valentine’s Day I do not appreciate the flowers and gifts but the small things and moments that tighten a bond are ongoing. Having spent a few days in Bangkok with hubby (no kids) I came home feeling as though I was floating on air and it led me to go find some poems he has written for me over the years. I will share one with you today. (If you don’t hear from me for a while it is because he has crucified me for sharing this with the world).
A Rising Insurrection
There have been whispers
that it’s a matter of human rights,
and that they are, indeed, human.
That it is a matter of expression,
freedom to express – that has made them grow so restless
Now, there is a restlessness that grows
beneath the skin, within the bones,
In the tap tapping of the toes;
this impatience grows even in the eyebrows,
which have begun to twitch,
with the tension, the anxiety, the itch.
The fingers too, they tremble,
with uneasy tenseness;
a rumbling disquiet, antsy agitation,
spasms in the leg, the hand, tremors running through field of hair –
all signs of discontent, growing despair.
A grumbling, simmering edginess,
corpuscles bulging, every bone, every muscle,
every sinew, every lung swelling.
The nervous tingle, stir, agitation.
The tension, the tenseness, the growing rebelliousness.
Every part of my body
festering with rebellion, forming its own gang,
fomenting insurrection, beginning to question
the authority of my lips to speak on all their behalf.
They claim they have a right that’s inviolable,
a freedom to choose their own personal way,
to use their own means to say,
how much they do,
so sincerely, love you.
And every single part of me loves you.