Draft in the author’s style. This poem was written for Poet of Blossom to sit beside the author’s own readings, and is waiting for the author’s review. The commentary is a working draft too.
You are a thousand miles away beneath a different sky,
Yet the same moon lifts her lantern as we watch her wander by.
I light a paper lantern and I send it up the breeze,
With a message in its belly, tied with ribbons and with ease.
It carries all my mornings and the hours that we miss,
And a promise in a whisper, sealed with a single kiss.
The oceans are but rivers when a heart has learned to swim,
And the miles are only measures for a love that will not dim.
Someday, when the plane has landed and the waiting all is done,
We will hold each other tightly, and we'll count what we have won.
Until then, keep your window lit and I will keep mine bright,
For two lanterns in the distance make a single guiding light.
Poet of Blossom · Hear it on the channel ↗
Commentary
Distance is the enemy of many couples, and this poem answers it with light. Two lanterns and one shared moon join two people who are far apart.
The lovers are “a thousand miles away beneath a different sky,” but “the same moon lifts her lantern” over both. The speaker lights “a paper lantern” and sends it up the breeze “with a message in its belly.” It carries “all my mornings and the hours that we miss,” and a promise “sealed with a single kiss.”
The speaker believes that “the oceans are but rivers when a heart has learned to swim.” One day the plane will land, and the couple will “hold each other tightly.” Until then, they promise to “keep your window lit,” for “two lanterns in the distance make a single guiding light.”