Poem: The Log

Before either one of us could know
how all of this would truly go
there was a time, when we would sit
upon a log suspended.

We would look up to the clouds
daydream together out loud
not knowing really more than a mite
we sat on a log suspended.

When love fell unto our hands,
then our life truly began,
but still there was some ground,
our dear log suspended.

We’ve since floated and flew,
we’ve learned and grew,
and all the while long,
we’ve thought of our log suspended.

Over the river, down the hill
was where we used to sit and chill
talk into the night, by cellphone light
sitting on our log suspended.

It was our place, I’d say still is
we wouldn’t call it hers or his
we’d call it ours, where it all began
on that log suspended.

P.S. If you missed it, check out a special BONUS UPDATE about a new project I talked about teasing a little while back that’s starting tonight!