He hadn’t even known
That he’d been sleeping
For such a very long time.
Until the Woodshed Gypsy woke him,
First with her kiss
And then with her heart.
They say love makes everything brighter,
But it is not so.
Love only inspires the light.
She taught him to slow down,
To stray from the trail
Into the hidden recesses of the forest
Where skeletons are found,
Where squirrels banter,
And snails mate on logs.
She taught him that teacups store memories
Of the conversations
At the table.
That river stones, eroded,
With holes right through them
Are magical amulets.
That keys symbolize freedom,
And incarceration, and protection,
And mystery.
That it’s okay to be vulnerable,
To leave a familiar place,
To chase an adventure.
To thank our pain
For making us stronger
And more powerful.
That self-praise
Is medication that expires
And leaves us lonely.
That it’s okay to
Let go of the past
And to trust.
That it can hurt to lose
Someone who wasn’t
Yours to begin with.
That love can awaken,
Inspire,
And enlighten.
But that even powerful love,
Even magical love,
Is not enough.
Though it is enough.