Sure, when one is "in love," everything seems to take on the hue of that emotion and tinges every glance with touches of Fate's good and providential hand.
However, I must confess that these songs I only recently discovered have lines so similar to those I've been writing lately in my correspondence, that the coinciding imagery is difficult to ignore. It's not extraordinary, but I find it curious my heart and mind have only now unlocked these visions, at this juncture in my life.
I think again of that Sondheim song, "Happiness," and the lines:
I thought I knew what love was
I wish we could have met so much sooner
I thought I knew what love was
I thought I knew how much I could feel
I didn't know what love was
It's what I feel with you
I wish I had words of my own to describe my particular experience. But it's a struggle. Not because I don't know what to say--quite the opposite--but rather, how to say it in the best possible way.
Such is the task of the poet.
I'll carry on and enjoy the effort and the work and above all, the journey. I have declared my intentions to meu querido and now I feel a bit of pressure to deliver and make good on my promise. I will, of course, but the work still lies before me, and I am tentatively wading into the waters. As of now, my sense is to capture fleeting images within brief forms and verses, distilled to singular moments. But we shall see.
Until next time, se cuida e fica bem--M
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