Secrets, a poem by Kristin M. Ferrell

This work was inspired by the book, The History of Love.


Have you ever spent time with someone who made you feel as if the world held secrets you would finally be privy to? Perhaps he made you feel like the wind was whispering things. He seemed to be able to decipher everything. Suddenly everything held sacred meaning. Suddenly a metallic hope dripped from rainy branches and swirled in the silvery clouds. Everything waxed itself into art. Every wish wore pink silk.

Have you ever fallen in love in the autumn when leaves begged your blood to match their stain? That someone traced your hand with his finger and told you who you've always been and he was right. He got it right. And that was a first. Maybe a last.

Did you ever forget to care about anyone else's expectations but his? Did all your cares begin to dissolve under the something you can't describe when it comes to who you are when he is looking at you? Did fashion lose its luster while your eyes found theirs? Did money suddenly become more a means and less an end? Did it last?

Was there ever a time when someone gave you the feeling that everything that ever puzzled you was about to be explained in great detail? All your questions would soon be answered. Many heavy drapes would soon be drawn. All would be lit. You'll see it all clearly, very, very soon.

Did anyone ever look at you as though you were more than human? Maybe they felt rather silly about talking about it but just the look in the eyes was enough. Was he counting your freckles? Was he seeing flecks of jade in your iris? It spoke volumes. Something hung in the air between you, something that existed without your permission.

Have you ever caught yourself not listening? And why not? Because you were day dreaming again. You used to see cactuses, lilies, the sea, volcanoes, and ivy covered walls in there, in the day dreamy place, but now it was all him and where you would go and who you would be alongside him. Where would you go? What would the photographs look like once both of you were long since dead and gone? Who would look at them then? Would they cry?

Have you ever felt like the person you would tell your grandchildren about was right in front of you? Did the person seem a little famous, almost like you'd known him or read about him forever and ever and now here he is, finally, in the flesh and real? Something familiar and déjà vuish seemed to surround you wherever the two of you went.

Did you ever ask yourself whether you were making it all up? Was this really happening or were you so unruly and romantic that the whole experience was just your overactive brain again? Something says no. Something says wait. Is it you? Are you real?

Have you ever spent time with someone who made you feel as if the world held secrets you would finally be privy to?