there at last

brick by brick the

hard high wall around me

began to fall

with music so soft

only intimate ears

could hear

when with that wonderful

tenderness so overflowing in you

you touched my aching

concrete cynicism

and kissed my world weary

mind into dreams

of singing

laughs of growing

and joys

of being alive

like each bare brick

of that wall

you slowly, oh so

carefully dismounted the doubts

freed the fears

and with quiet little steps

entered my heart

in a halo of rebirth

revealing that

there were once two loves in my

crowded carefully plotted

closed-hearted life:

my rusted roaming van and my

faithful guitar and

now

as sunrise welcomes Spring as

living brings new growth

i joyfully see

three.

-- douglas brent smith