Bliss, A Purgatory

 
I fell in love with acts of kindness
acts of art, wandering intellect and heart,
spontaneous acts that reveal
you - the one whose soul
has spoken, open, laid itself bare
out there for me to collect and share.

I did not want to fall in love,
that heady feeling that addicts
and lures you in...
And yet I did.

Wisdom and age are funny things.
I want to gift them to my kid,
to keep under her pillow, baby teeth
unsteady, delicate and brief.

And when she needs a hug most
I'd gift her my experience as I've lived
adventures with friends and lovers,
other hearts.

That stricture in my chest and throat,
the warning that I shouldn't, I've ignored
over and over, at high cost.

Ignorant bliss, I well know, is a myth -
there's no such thing... bliss is won
through the wrought iron fence of life.
I misspent mine, perhaps, with loves misfit.