I remember the times
when in the quiet and not so quiet of life
I would hear your quiet knock.
And we would spend time, you and I,
as I would listen and you would
reveal new things to me.
And my hand would scurry across the page
as I eagerly captured your heart
to me or as I poured out my heart to you.
But as time went by these times
became less and less.
Crowded out by school and schooling.
By the routine of life.
By rising to work, to provide, to nurture and to guide.
By trying to do the “right thing”.
By other interests stealing my time.
By trying to please others all the time.
But what my heart really needs,
longs for, hungers for,
is for us to once again spend time together.
Just you and me, a pen and a piece of paper.
When once more you can guide my hand.