Like stars fading away in the brightening dawn sky,
my human memories are receding, slipping away
into some vast repository that curious researchers
may visit in the future, searching for revealing clues.
They may occasionally stop and rub their weary eyes
while thumbing through page after tedious page
of inconsequential materials, until at last, startled,
they come upon our first momentous meeting.
That miracle will leap out at them like a tsunami
of pure emotion, and they will look at each other,
breathless — stunned by what they’ve now discovered.
The same inner surge that made the peacocks cry out
with joy at the very moment we first melted into each other
will rise within their tender hearts and overwhelm them
with waves of bliss that spawn a stream of thanks and praise.
And even though I may lose all the rest, the highs and lows
that even now seem to pale and dissolve in the merciful light
of this oncoming forgetfulness, how could I ever stop saying,
over and over again, “My Love, My Love, My Precious Love”.