Memory of a Kiss
November 13th, 2007
Parted lips kiss the soft pillow
remind me of the gardenias
that bloomed thrice the month I left
How many times will I speak, write, or wonder of love?
The kind that hurts, heals, or accompanies?
The silent one inside my book
Or the loud one that once filled my pages?
The one I wanted to call daughter,
or the one that loves me as their daughter?
The one I can’t see but keeps me in their prayers
or the one that hugs me every morning,
because the only word she remembers is teacher?
The one that doesn’t speak but guards me vigilantly
or the one that couldn’t start a song without me one Christmas afternoon?
The friend that never fails to say hello
or the one whose rosary I keep close to my heart?
How many times?
Infinite, if God lets me.
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
–1 Corinthians 13:13 add to del.icio.us
Leave a Reply