Suite Bergamasque

0:00

Morning's playful light dances easy through your blinds

as willow warblers chime in

on the dawn-song of the robin

and wisteria whispers its scent

through the haze of honeysuckle, sweet.

Your closed eyes, all longed-lashed and peaceful,

don't let you know that I am awake,

so I can secretly enjoy how the half-often window

permits the vital flurry of the world

to enter the safety of this swaddled nest

we've spent these months building,

note by note,

without rush, without reticence.

A morning such as this reminds me

how we let our worlds and each-other in slowly,

conducting this tender hum

(which I think they call trust)

with gentle, flowing arpeggios

infused with delicate rushes which delight me even now;

Our first kiss, the cliche brushing of hands,

silly laughter and then the undressing

the unmasking,

the release.

I had long-believed that love should announce itself

in a great black-piano appasionato,

all heavy-keyed, complex and clamorous,

measured only by the force

of its roaring baritones to blast out and break the glass --

but that has shattered me before

whereas this morning, I awake energised and understand,

as I feel you folded so gently into the frame of me,

that this love is a simple dawn-sway

where two selves who sing in different keys

waltz harmoniously in a dappled world

full of promise, full of kindness,

full of joy.