They Found Each Other

He was hers as surely as she his.

One day he will survive. Not because he had the physical strength,

or the power of money,

but because he had her. From all his worries that had

clouded his brain, his heart,

she emerged, a sparkling light of hope for a happier world.

One look. It wouldn't have taken long for him to have found her,

though it was just enough for him

to forget those worries that had stalked him during the day in

alleys, his dreams at night.

That he had found her, that he had smiled, gave back everything her

heart had lost in pain.

A sparkling light of hope for a happier world, he had put it.

Or maybe it was the feeling

of wearing a dress that had been sewn with so many memories, you

wore it only around the house. It was comfort. A reminder of forgotten hope.

A teddy bear in the crib of a child whofeared the dark.

A phone call to an aggravated, worried mother- every night praying,

hoping her son would return home.

All were for the same one meaning, not to feed the

ego, or for permission to brag to others. It was to remember that that sparkle

of hope had been laid upon her, by a smile, a dress, a teddy bear, and a phone call.

And she walked forward with hope bright in her eyes reflecting everything

that would be okay on their happier

world as the love they had grew and the worries that had casted

them away from one another, as that has shrunk to microscopic sizes.

Not living in despair with loneliness, not trying to forget

with frozen hearts; colder as the life they would walk alone is, but together.

When their hope shone brighter; more than the sun, as passionate as it is,

but as she was his sparkle of hope. 

Reviews

[The Perfectionist]

I had to read this one twice over, for two reasons. One of those reasons is good, and the other not so good. With the way you've chosen to display this (centred) and the fact that some of the lines run long, it's easy to get lost and to lose the rhythm and feel of the poem. You may want to consider tightening up the language.

Having said that, the other reason I reread it is because it feels like it takes a sharp turn to the dark side for about the last ten lines. Now maybe I'm reading this wrong, but I certainly wasn't expecting that, though it is not unwelcome. Tonal shifts have their place in writing, and this one was placed just fine. Well done.

[Leslie]

The title is a bit long for me, but I really like this poem - especially all the metaphors, well done.