Melting of the Frost

I understand now,
my love,
that the hand that holds near to my eye,
that wipes away the tears,
is a hand long rejected
by my childish fears.

Why have I walked
in the court of darkness
and wasteful sorrow
at the expense
of your tender splendour
and clarity of sense?

I wish to cry at your feet
but you will have none of it.
The coldness that chilled my cheeks
has thawed from my sore skin
and your love has warmed
my soul within.

Up you bring me,
up from my sojourn,
and again my heart burns
with this slight smile
that in but a while
shall consume all darkness in my life.

I peer into your face
and I find that I can’t see anything
but love for me.
My friend, my friend,
I find myself knowing that our love won’t die
as long as walk both you and I.

In youth I pursued
the pleasures that bring pain
but once again
I find my heart broken at the loss.
Now, my love,
I want to stand.

I won’t turn to peer back
in the shadows and snow
of a cold winter-time,
mistakes made in greed.
Why would I, when now,
my soul can walk free?

That tiny passion
has already blossomed
into a summer of warmth
and the body once blue-dead
has become perhaps a Vivaldi, a Van Gogh,
a musical mural without limit or wall.

Past the point of no return,
from a place I do not wish to see.
Let’s walk together in The Way,
your hand never denied me,
never lost from my sight
even for a tiny moment,
my love.


Matt K, 2005