The Captain's Verses: The Love Poem

There must be a thousand homecomings before we can say to each other, "I love you." We must exercise a superb patience, and wait for all the signs to be fulfilled. First, the noonday sun must shine into the forest's west side and dispel all shadows. A spring harvest must exceed all expectations. Twelve deer, both male and female, must leave the woods, and eat apple slices from the palms of our hands. Two eagles, perched high above, must descend, circle the forest and then fly away on a northerly trajectory. Rain that falls just after dawn must smell as sweet as honey, and nocturnal rainfall must hover over your sleep. These signs are only the beginning. A blind man must find his way to your house. You must serve him freshly baked bread. A deaf woman must tell me in sign language that in her sleep she hears the music of Mahler. A man who has abandoned his family must return to help his teenage children in their rites of passage. A wife and husband who have both betrayed their vows must every morning seek the other's forgiveness until a New Love raises their lives to a higher union. And on an ordinary morning or on an evening as quiet as the prayers of the redeemed, we will become aware of an angel casually leaning against a simple elm tree, and we will know we have achieved the last homecoming required for our love.