London, you’ve taught me a couple things.
One is, that you’re probably better looking
and in a better mood when the sky is heavy with
passionate rain clouds.
Heat does not suit you, nor does the blinding sun on
your cobbled streets.
And the mighty Thames looks
And your bright red double deckers are charming from afar,
but inside them, the constant stopping and going
makes the mind wander, in its frustration, to leaping
out of the window in a sweaty, claustrophobia-induced rage.
But your markets, landmarks, gardens, and shoppes
made up for transportation woes.
Another valuable lesson is that
heartbreak can reach even your ancient fortresses,
your hundred-year-old buildings, bridges, and houses.
I keep expecting to see his face,
and the smile that still makes my heart weep,
the eyes that cause my pulse to race,
and the love I thought I’d always keep.
Nay, not London, not an ocean.
Not a marbled arch or preserved parliament
can keep the pain at bay.
But in the crevices of my palm, to which I whisper
Filling my hands with prayer and repentance,
it is only then that I can cope.
The extra beat in my heart is solace.
Only then can I feel some hope.
July 9, 2012