But, yet,
I stood in the restless crowd,
Nodding heads, nervous grins, bobbing balloons,
All waiting to celebrate love—
A love yet to grow.

Then, at once, there they are—
Small strangers from far away
Looking for love,
Looking to know that someone new
Can become someone they knew “all along.”

The timid blue shirts follow each other,
Keep going, keep going,
deeper into the swirling bustle.
Someone cheers, someone hugs,
Some of the blue shirts are captured.
The rest keep going, keep going.
And I wait.

I see!
I see blue, tired eyes under a cap of tousled hair.
The blue eyes don’t see me; but, I know those eyes.
So, off I go into the cacophony,
Keep going, keep going,
Until I get there.

When I got there I whispered “Sasha”
Then I looked deep into the soul of another,
And knew.
I just knew.
He does belong to me—he’s part of me!
I can’t help but hold him tight,
The tears roll down my cheek,
I’ll never be the same—there’s another part of me.

I found that there was no “love yet to grow,”
The growing had been done!
The love was full and there to stay--
This stranger was not new.
He is my Sasha—and, in fact,
He was my Sasha all along.

Marsha
April 19,2004