Rhythms: A Love Song in Case of Good bye

by Kathryn Thompson*

I fell in love with you knowing you were a fiction masquerading as fact.

Your words the sweet sagas of a wandering hero,

Your silence a Haiku scribbled in invisible ink.

Your rambling tales made Scheherazade look like an amateur,

Your words, spouting from the fountain, washing away my apprehension.

You the proud Persian prince, strutting like a peacock in your palace gardens,

with your enticing mating dance.

Who could resist.

Your smile makes the Mona Lisa look petulant,

Your eyes, twinkling emeralds from a stolen ring,

Your sex, a bold blossom from a canvas of O’Keefe,

Your soul, a deep blue from the palette of Matisse.

I fell like a stone

dropped from high

This is a love song in case of good bye.


All I ever wanted

was my tongue to learn the language of your body

as it whispered secrets in the darkness.

All I ever wanted

was for you to play me as your beloved instrument

to make me sing a sweet ode to joy.

All I ever wanted was to utter the sacred words:

With my body thee I worship,

to offer myself as the sacrifice on the altar of Eros,

for us to enter the kingdom of heaven,

here on earth

In the garden

in the meadow

In the forest

in the glen

in me, in you.

We would  roam vast landscapes of our longing,

where rocks grow hearts of moss,

and streams gush cool clear water over aching mountains.

We would romp and play in wild weather,

wind blowing kisses through our tussled hair.

The sky would sing the blues,

as cuddling clouds scudded by

and rain fell in buckets of love.

Lightning was awed struck,

thunder clapped with delight,

tornadoes twirled with joy

as we loved out loud,

Oh what magnificence.


If we should ever part

let us share the story of our love.

Let us tell the doing of what we did:

How we planted the seeds of our longing,

held together the tender shoots of our desire,

How we inhaled deeply the scent of our loving,

and feasted on the ripe fruit of our passion.

How we sucked the sweet juice from the depth of our being and swallowed the seeds of our new becoming.

The wisdom of the ancients is written in our hearts,

Love is the Law,


the Yin and the Yang of it.

We sing the songs of innocence,

as we dance on the edge of the sacred,

day and night, night and day, through the seasons, through the years,

loving with the turning,

the axis mundi of the world.

So Descartes

If we should ever meet on the other side,

I will boldly tell you, that you should have kissed in the rain, made

love outside under the moonlight,

and Im sure,

you would have then declared,

I love therefore I am.



*An over-educated expat Brit, artist, poet, writer, etc, living in the Northern Territory, Australia (28 yrs with brief interlude of 2 yrs in New Zealand). Worked in Aboriginal education at the Red Centre for 25 years. Currently, working as a counselor and therapist.