Tom:

A Blanket of Sorts

If I were to sew a blanket
for you, I would make it
out of mold and nightingale skin, the stitches slow and tender,
a few strands of moonlight
to bind a little mystery
into that combination
of darkness, dampness, and
a song too soft to echo.

I don’t imagine this blanket will bring much solace
on a winter night,
or comfort against the cold, but it may wrap around
a little dream and hold it close until you surrender
to that trilling voice,
that sounds quite old, and tells you:
you must count the stars.

Comments, Gary:

This magical blanket that you would sew, is not for warmth. It is not for the body, but it is just right for “a little dream,” the right blanket to “bind a little mystery.” There is some- thing that needs protection here, and love, something that needs holding until “you,” the one for whom this imagined blanket would be sewn, “surrender to the trilling voice” that tells you to “count the stars.” This poem is not giving anything away.

Gary:

Kiss Infinity

Kisses may be finite
But to you I give so many,
For each time I kiss you
I’d like to have a penny.
(I like to think they compensate 

For lips that don’t give any.)
Or perhaps a single kiss expands 

Far beyond the kissing
To dawn upon a world where such 

A thing as love is missing.
A single kiss ballooning
Beyond this love of ours
Might transcend the atmosphere 

And make love to the stars!
And so each kiss I give to you, 

Each kiss you give to me,
Might be the kiss that never ends–

Kiss infinity! 

Comments, Tom:

This poem raises interesting questions for me. Can a finite kiss expand to transcend the atmosphere? Can it expand to another world? Can we make love to the stars? You tease us (yes, it’s a playful poem...as is love) with these cosmic possibilities. For me the poem confirms the idea in my poem that there is an infinite, divine love in the cosmos, and that love itself is an infinite energy permeating the en- tire universe. I’m reminded of an old song, “As Time Goes By,” that says “a kiss is still a kiss” and “the world will al- ways welcome lovers as time goes by.” Of course, this love song is not really about cosmic love or kissing the stars.

But your poem puts a new wrinkle in the song. Maybe “as time goes by,” means time will someday cease to exist (if this is possible), and time, or the lack of it, becomes eternity, becomes infinite, becomes timeless. If this happens, I hope that whatever worlds might still exist will continue to welcome lovers. I could live with that. And without time, there would still be infinite love.