I'm Asking for Your Heartbeat

Press my ear up against your chest

Let me hear your heartbeat

Let it be the music in my ears

I want that rhythm to pound in my veins

I want my heart to beat with yours

Lord Jesus, let our hearts beat as one

Let me look through your eyes

See what you see

Give me your vision

May your vision be mine

May my vision be yours

Knit my life into yours

Let me be caught up in you

A New Shade of Blue

There is a blue unlike the ocean

Unlike the sky

Unlike the thread in my mother’s box

Unlike the pencil between my fingers

It is the depths of a mile-long well

Where sunlight doesn’t reach

Except in streaks of lighter blue

That highlight the deeper hue

It is a story of love and anguish

Of excitement and despair

It is a word with no name

It is a message that cannot be said

This blue is a sky realer than real

A sea deeper than deep

It is a world I’d love to explore

It is incomprehensible, this blue

It is the colour of your eyes

Interesting note: I don't usually revise my poems once I've finished them, but I did go back and change a couple lines in this one just because I was having such a hard time describing this particular shade of blue.  I would read it and go, "No, that's not quite right.  This phrase would be more accurate," and change it.

Relationships, a River

When you meet someone, you’re jumping into a river.  The river runs with chemicals; they affect your emotions.  The water feels good; the water is happiness; it is pleasure.
Soon, as you float along the river, there is a fork.  To the left, a wide stream flows fast and deep into the great unknown.  To the right, a slight trickle flows over gently sloping ground, far into the distance until it disappears into the distant mist.
Here, a decision is before you: the slow, waning stream with not quite enough water to satisfy, or all that beautiful, gushing fluid in the main rush?  The current pulls you to the wide and the fast, so of course that is where you choose to go.
It is pleasure beyond measure, plenty of water, plenty of love.  But your gushing river rounds a corner, turns sour, and pours into the ground, disappearing.  No more pleasure, no more love.  You can’t go back now, but you think about what could have been.
You could have fought your way down the trickle, drinking up all the water you could.  It would have been long and hard, but in good time you would have reached the sea.  There it is: the sea of limitless pleasure.  No boundaries, only happiness.
“I don’t know what his price would have been, but it would have been worth it.”