Love by Candlelight #
Would that I could shorten the days to Love
A steep shortcut trail to the mountaintop
Yet the way to a heart is ever so
rocky, winding, treacherous, and long
Do you know how to get there?
Know which steps to take?
I’ve been there once before
I’ll lead what I recall of the way
Can we get there by candlelight?
Yes, but then again
If our intent is dull and our passion slight
We’ll never get there by candlelight.
Inspiration Revealed #
My muses inspire me when I write.
Your muses inspire you when you read.
Below I choose to disclose the inspirations and interpretations of my own poems.
Maybe our muses told us some of the same things. Read on below if you really want to find out.
Inspiration #
Stardust #
I was reading the book Stardust by Neil Gaiman and besides it being a wonderfully refreshing book it was also a fountain of inspiration.
Within the book I came upon this little thing:
How Many Miles to Babylon
Three score miles and ten.
Can I get there by candlelight?
Yes, and back again.
Yes, if your feet are nimble and light,
You can get there by candlelight.
– As recited by Tristran Thorn in Stardust
It’s easy to see now where my version might have come from.
There are also other versions if you wish to see.
Vocabulary #
candlelight = nightfall (because one would light a candle at nightfall)
three score miles and ten = 70 miles
Love is a skill I’ve lost along the way #
Recently I’ve come to the idea that being open to love and being able to fall in love are skills that we are all born with but that we can lose along the way.
Why? As we grow we think we know better and so simple loves lose their wonder and we seek ever more complex loves to entertain us.
I know I’ve fallen in love and been in love, I think I remember the way there, but with the years I feel I have forgotten how to get there exactly.
Maybe I can’t take the same way each time?
Maybe I only know half of the way there…and someone else knows the other half?
Maybe.
An echo of love #
Sometimes when I’m half awake and half asleep, or when I hear a certain sound, or when I smell a certain smell, or when I say a certain phrase, I remember what it’s like to be back there.
My world slows, my being calms, and my heart beats in time with a person I’ve not seen.
The echo, having been heard, moves on and away and I’m back to not remembering how to get there.
Will I remember? #
Maybe I’ll never remember how to get back to the mountaintop of that type of love, even though I know I love others in my life like family and friends.