I walked to the edge of the sea,
And dipped my toes in the surf.
Touching the ocean is (to me)
Something like tasting a dream.
I crept up and sat by a lark,
Memorized its tremulous strains.
Hearing its song, even in part,
Is something like seeing through the dark.
I lay down beneath a pine,
Observed the branches and boughs.
Following each twisted vine,
Is something like tasting good wine.
I knelt beside a rose,
Closed my eyes and breathed.
Smelling such perfume, so close,
Is something like inhaling a poem.
I gathered courage to hold your hand,
To feel the softness of your fingers; which,
Intertwined together as we stand,
Look something like a wedding band.