Searching For Words

How to find the right words to confess love?

O, isn't it simple enough? But how to find

The right words for every single detail

Of what you see and experience every moment of your life?

Every insignificant detail in which a careful observer,

A scrutinizing eye may sense a whole world of poetry,

A whole new world of something both so very familiar

And, at the same time, uncharted and enchanting,

Touching or terrifying, abominable or beautiful.

Like that little boy at a bus stop on a slushy winter day

With his tiny spade, trying to slash in two a lump

Of snow–dirt amalgam. Repeatedly failing.

The cunning clump keeps slipping

From under the blade. There's a limit to little kids' patience,

The boy gets pretty annoyed; he frowns; he throws

The useless spade aside and steps on the pig-headed

Dirt–snow blob. Flop! Stamp! Now let's call this snirt shoeprint

A success! Let's call it a victory!

And there should be a term for a funny-angry boy stamping

On a snow–dirt lump. But there's none.

Therefore, one is compelled to employ this verbose description

Of the thing that took a bit more than a split second to happen.

And the magic of that moment gets irreversibly deformed if not destroyed.