Climb, Sweet Ivy, Climb

You can dance and sway
like the old willow tree.
The moon illuminates
your tranquil face,
as I watch, in silence,
like the lonely stones
beneath your feet.

I admire your joy, so free
from the weight of this world,
and I wonder what’s missing

in
me.

Am I a stone?
I am a stone.

But, we will sit side-by-side
for one hundred years or more,
and this wheel forever turns
…once again, I’ll be all alone,

so…

Climb, sweet ivy, climb,
along bark and groove,
caress the boughs of my love,
as she ‘ever looms.

I lay at her feet, supine.
I, the little stone, cry,
wishing to be seen
as something shinier
than any old moon.

You can stand, stoic and still,
just like the ancient oak,
upon yonder hill.

I will rest against your roots,
as you creak and as you groan.
Whether through cold wind or warm,
these years will still unfold.

But, I am the stone,

and I’ll watch you flourish
until time takes you home.

Is it wrong of me
to wish this creeping ivy,
would entwine us both,
pulling you closer,
so that you’re always
next to me?

Yes. I want you to be free from me.

Because a choice to stay in love
is the sweetest thing.

So, climb, sweet ivy, climb,
lift her up to the waiting moon,
that pedestal among the stars,
for those that broke our hearts,
too soon.

One day, you may return to me,
and yes, I know our love was true,
but I’ll be waiting,

patiently…

The little stone
closes his eyes
and tries to shine
with the grand
of a brilliant moon.

©️ CG Tenpenny, 2024.