Love Song

If I could write you a love song, I’d do it.
Sitting in this cool, silent cabin,
Watching through a window framed by
Pines the afternoon as it ages and dies,
I’d spin a melody in notes tender and
True enough to make the angels cry.

I think of you, always with longing, and a
Heart aching for what-could’ve-been,
What I daily pray will be.  And I tell myself,
“If only I could set love to music, paint it
In poetry of unsurpassed beauty, then ….”
Then … what?  I’m not sure I know.

If my song were a ‘plaint, the cry of love
Given begging for love returned, it
Would be an awfully tinny tune, falling oh
So flatly on the ear.  Anybody can write
A song like that.  The only note in those
Kinds of songs is an endless mi, mi, mi.

Still, if I’m honest, I can’t deny thinking,
As others lavish me with affection,
How golden life would be, if it were you
Here loving me.  No, I won’t deny that.
I’ve been a lot of things to you, not all
Of them good, but I won’t lie that way.

But, if you could trust me now, just for
A minute – now, as night creeps over
These forested hills – you’d understand
That, tonight, I’d only like to sing to you,
In words and melody too sublime to be
Disbelieved, “I love you.  I do love you.”

If I had music and lyrics enough,
Could I touch your heart?  Would you
Hear beyond the words that’ve become
All but meaningless to you?  Could you
Listen through expected sentiment to
Hear the beating heart beneath?

I really don’t know.  If you don’t know it’s
You I’m talking to, how can you hear
My song?  (If I wrote one.)  But God is
The Father of mercy; redemption is His
Specialty.  Maybe, someday, He’ll teach
Me to write my song, and you to hear it.

Until then, I’ll love you in silence, or speak
The words I have, even though you hear
The words only, missing the music that would
Bring them to life, fill them with power,
And sing my love song to your soul.
If I could write you a love song, I’d do it.

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