Independence Day Love Poem

Independence Day fireworks
A nation’s liberty was meant

The Fourth of July has special meaning for me.

Of course, it represents the founding of the my country, which has been a remarkable blessing to he world. Although America has not always lived up to its ideals, those ideals make it unique among nations.

And those ideals have made it a magnet for untold millions who seek freedom and opportunity.

I still get a little lump in my throat and a tear in my eye when I hear the national anthem or “America the Beautiful.”

But, for me, the Fourth holds personal significance. That’s because it marks the anniversary of my certainty that I had found the love of my life.

It goes back many, many years ago to a particular Fourth of July night in Minneapolis.

INDEPENDENCE DAY

The wind and you played in my hair,
You lambent in the moon,
The night arranged as by design,
Mysteriously boon.

Afresh the breeze and warm our hands,
So lately introduced,
Traced so gently new found lands,
From tyranny aloosed.

While all around with fire and bang
Our freedom was proclaimed,
A nation’s liberty was meant,
To us, two hearts unchained.

The Third of July

Lake of the Isles, Minneapolis
Lake of the Isles, Minneapolis … long ago

This date — for me — will always be associated with discovering enduring love.

When it does not work out, love is painful and the source of much poetry.

But when it DOES work out, it can inspire as well.

The events in this little poem date back to 1982. I know because I have a little pocket calendar that proves it.

I’ve posted this before, but here it is again in honor of one of my favorite personal holidays.

That Day We Lay Upon the Grass

That day we lay upon the grass,
A luminescent green.
The sparks that arced from arm to arm
Across the space between.

Our bodies quickened by the sun,
The willow leaves aflush,
The sunlight sparkling on the lake,
Our blood bestirred to rush.

Up and down the parkway, flowers
Enticing with their blooms,
Our loveless winter ended there,
Emerging from our tombs

For we had slept as sleepers sleep,
Unmindful of the world,
Astonishingly we awoke,
Much like a rose unfurled.