Receipt and investment

"We have so much to share, so much that needs to be thought and said and lived, so much that has to happen to us. . . ." As you speak, your eyes change color. Never has mutual responsibility sounded so rich in my ears. In your seeing, this marriage has become a divine imperative. I mean your conviction about what exists between us has already taken on the dimension of prophecy.

But I can't get away from the fact that your certainty about the future of what we share is really a statement about its presence. I take that back: the life between us is spilling over its time frame now like an early spring!

Perhaps it is all pointing to some kind of universal -- in the same way that the blooms on this hibiscus tree point to the very existence of light.

You're smiling. " -- In the same way that their petals will be changing color," you say.

My words are a receipt . . . your words are an investment. I'm writing a poem . . . you're planting perennials.m