I don’t understand these sophisticated philosophies.
You write of concepts so far above me
I think you must be in heaven
as you haven't been here with me
on earth in a long time.
Maybe I'm simply too slow for you,
being a creature of this world.
Yes, I am an earthly, earthy woman,
not given to pondering man as whirling particles
or pieces of a broken vessel.
In the end I am simply contending with
ordinary matters of living,
which are often too complex for me anyway.
As it is, my hands are full --
difficult relationships,
unrealized ambitions,
looming fears,
lasting grief,
loss of many
little things that once sustained me.
I am as I always was --
a creature seeking warmth and light.
I remember a time when you used to
visit me here in Rome
as the ordinary Romans do.
You were not Euclid in those days.
You were an earthly, earthy man
using all your weight and power
to draw me close,
clutching at my back,
your very breath
was all the communication you needed.
You shared your heart, your fears,
and dear God! how you made me laugh,
how you made my body roar.
We got a little older, that's all.
Then you got the idea that
we were too old for "all that stuff"
and you left me behind.
Now you are all intellect, all theory,
making no sense at all.
I can take it for a while, but
in the end I must be touched
by someone loved and loving.
I got a little older, that's all.
I didn't drop down dead.
Nobody came by to make me
turn in my woman card.
No one shut off my heart,
my body,
my soul.
Come down from the heavens.
Step through for a moment and speak directly to me.
Look in my eyes.
What good is a florid philosophy of life to me?
I am an earthly, earthy woman.
I need to live,
not talk about what it means to live.
I don’t understand the erudite explication of love
in the absence of loving.
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