Come Lie with Me

It is not what we say that proves our intentions, but what we do. Words can certainly help to clarify, but they can also serve to confuse, and it is all too tempting to disguise odious action with a false word. That is not to say that words cannot build trust. What they lack in certainty, they make up for in efficacy. All too often, actions require excessive time and effort to interpret and, even then, sometimes wrongly. A forthright act, however, paired with an honest word, is an irreproachable thing. So speak your thoughts, and follow them with action, and those you love will never be disappointed.


Come Lie with Me

Come lie with me, and in the mead
we'll make our bed beneath
the silver-swelling clouds that speed
across the amber heath.
There shall we whisper, lip to ear
and subtle tongue to teeth,

a word or two, that you may hear
sufficient prophecy
for wistful dreaming, drawing near
with every guarantee.
The promise is not in the oath,
however, nor the plea

that presses for assurance. Both
are only words, at best,
and understanding is a growth
that thrives on act and rest,
alone. And if the words that pass
between us are not blessed

by more than murmurs in the grass,
they are no better than
the idle breezes that harass
our tangled hair and span
the little lengths, from bract to bloom,
of dandelion. Can

I prove the things that I presume?
I shall not ask your trust
to make its bed within a room
as empty as a gust
of wind. Adjudge my every deed
and, so, I will adjust,

then lie with me, and in the mead,
as truest lovers must.