Lessons in love, learned from my dog
Your body, my body–
currently a circle of warmth
under the blanket, we’ve found
ourselves curled in a sort of heart;
your chin tucked down to your breast,
tucked under my chin– it is good.
And this deep stillness is good,
as if we were one body
with a slowly heaving breast,
just basking in the warmth
of a full bed and a full heart;
you breathe a sigh so profound
it’s as if you’ve found–
somehow– something so good
that it hurts your heart.
Your small body
is radiating warmth
folded against my breast.
And here is the mountain I must breast:
I am lucky, to have found
this simple, tender warmth;
But everything that is good
must end; every body
is only a vessel for a finite heart.
Someday, oh dear to my heart,
all will be still inside your breast
and inside your body.
Someday, when you have found
that rest is all that is good,
you will give up your warmth.
You, who taught me this warmth,
have put into my heart
the desire for this small good.
Someday I may hold to my breast
something greater, that confounds
with the knowledge that it came from my body.
But for now, I have your warmth at my breast.
How my heart has grown, just to have found
so much good in so fragile a small body!
