HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!

“LOVE IS THE DIVINE POWER OF ATTRACTION IN CREATION THAT HARMONIZES, UNITES, BINDS TOGETHER“

PARAMAHANSA YOGANANDA

To Thomas:

Slowly creeping towards our fourth decade together. Will we make it? Love grows deeper against a background of eventual, inevitable loss. A loss more unimaginable than one’s own demise.

I look deeply into your eyes, my eyes linger, falling into your blue orbs, while you, in turn, delight in my gaze, going far beyond the polite looks people use in everyday conversations. We pause too long. I fall into the abyss of your sky blues and feel reverence. Reverence for your happy spirit, infectious mood. Reverence for the God I see in you.

It is not the Eros of our first decade that has morphed into something much deeper. Attraction, yes, but of a different nature. Attraction of the heart, the soul, the spirit. We bring each other to pure joy, bliss, a sharing of spirit. We give each other a taste of Oneness with all. Meditation has become our love-making. Nature has become our Temple. This life has become suddenly the blink of an eye.

February 14, 2026 | Categories: Abstract Paintings, Abstract watercolors, Death in life, Hinduism, Love in the Elderly, Marital life, Neurodivergence, Paramahansa Yogananda, Paramahansa Yogananda Quotes, Spirituality, Twilight of Life, Valentine's day, Watercolor paintings | Tags: Abstract watercolors, Asperger's and marriage, Bipolar Disorder, Fear of loss, Love, Love in the Elderly, Marriage, Spirituality, Valentine's day, Watercolor paintings | 29 Comments

New Life, Old Love

Tree skeletons

acquire accoutrements

each passing day

pale green regalia

not the deep green

of Summer when the

change in color

is so gradual

as to be imperceptible

nor the fleeting riot

of color of Fall

no, in Spring,

ephemeral evanescent

slight light green

appears by the moment

right before my slow eyes

as I discern

shadows in the woods

a flash of white tail

deer fleet of foot

fly through the brush

dancing to the deep trill

of the wood frogs and

the echoing, haunted cries

of pileated woodpeckers

in the sudden density

of the fast-growing woods

inside the booming forest

whilst where I sit

at the edge of wood

bumble bees hum

and magically lift off

the teaming ground

and fly to the sky

where birds sing to mates

sweet songs of desire

in a crescendo of new life

as you have sung to me

for nearly thirty years

in an ever-changing

ever-growing love

whilst a breeze caresses

a newborn leaf

that tingles to its touch

as I thrill so very much

to the searching clasp

of your hand in mine

(As yet another killer, this time on the campus of Santa Barbara, California, is identified as possibly having Asperger’s syndrome, I, as a Bipolar Aspie, offer this poem written to my Aspie husband for May 14, 2014, on the occasion of our 25th wedding anniversary, to show that not all people with Asperger’s reach for a gun and are violent.)