Friday, August 23, 2019
The Secret Lover––poem by Dorothy
The Secret Lover
Oh, friends,
here I am in my nineties
and still making love
with the unseen one.
Sometimes in the kitchen,
sometimes at my desk,
it doesn't seem to matter.
Always the nameless
discovers me,
wherever I am.
I know it is that one,
who has been here
many times before.
I recognize this energy
of my familiar love presence.
Always it is like kisses,
here and there,
inside and out,
never touching.
Some call it Krishna
playing his flute,
in the distance or nearby.
I just name it
the one who comes,
never mind the looks
or appellations.
I wonder what I did
before I had this lover
in my life.
I don't know whether
to talk about it
or keep it a secret
from the world.
Dorothy Walters
August 23, 2019
