04 March 2012

To Monica on her 60th

What shall I call the love of my life
Or describe what to me it’s meant
That our tracks, begun on opposite slopes,
Converged for the final ascent?
I wish it came more easily,
The trail not be so steep.
I wish us free of the anxieties
That rob us of our sleep.
But the best that I can pray for
(Remembering what's true)
Is for the grace to stop and say
"Behold, my love, the view!"