Misnamed

“love is less always than to win

less never than alive

less bigger than the least begin

less littler than forgive”                 ee cummings

I misnamed you in my 

misunderstanding of what 

absence and silence meant. 

It is more than words.

I always advanced toward some 

star, in another galaxy, aboard 

a wobbly ship, sails filled with 

the surreal, sailing away from 

your silence.

Now we come together where 

words may not mean much. 

We are held in a body of mystery, 

where what Is is shrouded. 

No way to know what’s 

what.

I find I’m embraced not embarrassed

to feel I am beginning anew ~ 

nothing lost, much to be gained 

under this sky of blue. I’d like you

to embrace it, too. 

—Martha Ward