JD Souther

Tenderness "Come What May"

Spring, 2015
Thursday 1 AM

Come What May

So we are Falling in Love and not leaping. Not walking, running, driving, or even flying. It is Falling, a lack of control so intoxicating at first that the consequences of crashing to earth at high speed seem remote, something that happens in a film that can be paused.
But no, even as the power drops and the light fails, the big Love reel spools on, sputtering with mistakes and lack of calculation. We donít see the end till itís past but by then other wheels are already turning. A new house, city, or country might work. Really? No. We either navigate well through the hurricane and into the calmer waters of love without the capitol letter or we just stop; careening off the road, hitting a wall, or maybe rolling to a gravel stop, spent and disappointed.
So we wish each other good luck and almost mean it, as though anyone had the lever of fate in hand. I miss you and you miss me and anyway, what is worse? Is it the five thousand miles between us or the chance of an accidental meeting on the street and the ocean that would then rise suddenly around these broken islands? We are so ravaged by our own storm that rebuilding is like gathering burnt sticks and hoping for warmth.
But gather we might. I remember with the usual cold water dose that we are little mammals and will freeze without love. Maybe the greatest miracle is that spring is never more than a little ways off.

There is a pair of doves a few feet South of here that coo and strut and murmur as though winter had never been and will never come again. Maybe they heard me write this song, for all I know; walking in circles and sighing and then leaning with my back to the North for safety. An old Comanche with clear eyes told me to sleep this way; my head to the North Pole. He also told me a secret word for goodbye that means this: I wish you well.

JD Souther

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Posted 05/14/2015

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