What Is It
WHAT IS IT
I am thinking of you again
How many times? I cannot remember.
It still causes the same pain.
Burning in my chest, like a white steel ember.
It has been eating at my mind, it is a devastating cancer.
I am writing this now, even though… I still have no answer.
The other day, I tore up my room
In a childish fit of rage,… anger.
But that is not my strongest emotion.
I realized that, with a single tear. I wiped my eyes in shame,
I am not supposed to feel this way.
Although I did…do, I do.
I do feel this helpless pain.
I can always say to you, that we will be able to work it out.
But what is IT, this thing…..
This IT, that lovers, poets and friends talk about.
I have come to terms with this IT.
IT is us. Not our person’s, but our souls.
The two of us united, IT creates a separate entity, which lives and grows:
IT is our invisible bond,
But that is only an after effect.
IT is of dancing beauty,
A representative of our emotional elect,
Each of us selecting and giving,
To this glorious warmth, which is us,
Between us, dancing, soaring, forming something bigger than the both of us.
IT is the selected best,
These gifts we give each other, forever.
For even if we part,
IT will dance in our minds, eternally together,
IT is in me when I am down,
IT is what brings my head out from depression.
IT is what brings back my smile.
IT returns my passion, my life force, my obsession.
A feeling of greatness fills me,
A feeling so real, so powerful.
A deep heartfelt statement.
IT does not need to be worked out.
IT is stronger than any living self.
So, it should be said, that IT will be able to work us out,
Seeing that we are the unsteady ones.
And IT, our emotional creation, I will never doubt.
I am prepared to give every bit of friendship and energy I possess.
Jus t thinking of you, helps.
I enjoy the thoughts of us together.
I sought you not, for the here and now, and I have never believed in temporary
situations.
You are my completed self.
The whole of me, a wealth of joyous sensations.
My happiness is simply;
For you,
From you,
By you,
IT is you.
To end us, is to kill the most beautiful part of life, I have ever experienced.
And if IT dies, so does life, or at least IT will never be as beautiful, since.
Juan A. Rodriguez
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