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Preamble:
Small tremors of love ignite feelings so fresh
decades of living melt into a clear pond
where, upon reflection among ripples
created by thoughts, your life clearly viewed
becomes you.

Lately, my love becomes as though arrow-born,
soars straight, stops at appropriate landing, announces itself,
and returns to its quiver, ready to be dispatched again.
These moments arrive at random, unbidden friends
calling, some frequent visitors, others long ago
messengers enhance my joy of being.
And I wonder, when did I first know love?
Was it when a wet-nurse gave to drink?
When my father held me in the palm of his hand?
When my mother knit while the click of wooden needles
matched well the beat of my small heart?
My children, conceived under the canopy of caring.
I harbor deep love beyond any, for these offsprings
who know how to dance among the tremors of my love.
How can I not love nature? Ever-present beauty calls to me.
Be it mountain or ocean sent, or the path of bee or hummingbird
ever so easily swirling among temporarily perfect blooms.
And I cannot forget those people, who reveal thoughts with ease,
know how to listen with attention laced with trusting caring
to create an intimacy where all involved flourish.
And those tremors of love from beyond, without warning
arrive with superb swiftness to mate with my love within
to create more of splendid, easily shared euphoria.
With Father’s Day nearing, I recall my father’s love
so fully given to each of his three daughters
as each one knew he loved her best!
Sometimes, my father will arrive from beyond,
visit briefly as my need arises and I will sense the scent of his pipe
and touch of his wool sport jacket to know I am tended from afar.
My life does not feel brief. My days add up to many
and when they are spent, I imagine small tremors of love
will be found bouncing about those whom I loved.

Illia Thompson
Carmel Valley, CA
June 2017