January 7

The secret to finding love was to let it
    come to me.

For years I searched for love.
There were times in my youth I would drive
        into a new neighborhood,
        hoping to discover love
        sitting on some doorstep,
        or crossing the street
        at an intersection – stopping to look
        my way and recognize me.

I practiced love.
      At least once each day I tired to fall
      madly in love with someone
      in the distance –
      but never reached my destination.
           No one looked my way.
I never did the bar scene.
Lack of self-confidence
      kept me out of competitive environments.

So I dreamed– - and found within - –
      A perfect, faceless, nameless love –
      a love that felt so real, I wrote poetry to it,
      created from loneliness
      dedicated to my perfect dream.

      Then my dreams ended.  All that remained
           was the poetry.
      Content, I no longer desired to be a
      participant in life:
      I assumed the more comfortable role –
      that of detached observer.

Then, unexpectedly, love entered my life.
It touched deep inside me.
      And I recognized her voice
      She spoke to me – words heard 
      before - but only in my dreams.
Images of a faceless past returned,
      this time with form and beauty –
and I recognized her face.

All the poems I’d written,
all the love I’d dreamt, was now gift wrapped
and presented to me.
As in my ancient dreams, that love
        was eagerly accepted.

I'd not been searching when love found me,
the same love I'd discovered in
        my youthful dreams
but which was not destined to be mine until
this future time
when love discovered -– and returned -
        to me.
All Rights Reserved Copyright 1999 and 2000 Robert E. Kogan
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