On the Cusp of a 10th Anniversary

On the Cusp of a 10th Anniversary


 What measure can I give for this?

A number is a count and not everything that counts

Can be counted, they say. So, no: no numbers today.

Instead we’ll measure

            --We tell one another--

The years in arms:

Agave some nights, then alarming in alacrity.

We’ll measure it in paint,

Each layer a fractional nudge nearer

To the centre where waits impatiently our mirror:

Yes, we’ll measure it in him:

In bones that steal growth

And eyes that emote

Intensely telling us of wisdoms only he could know:

He shows us that we are greater than our number:

Greater than the aimless time we’ve lost to slumber,

Greater than the occupations encumbering us,

And much greater than the worries outnumbering us.

Here on the cusp,

Where a countless solace entrusts the future,

We sit,

            --We three, cartographers all--

And measure, in the sitting.