Our World Limitless

I met you on the riverbank
it was in the spring of the evening
your summer dress was blonde
my jeans were grass stained
from where I clowned for you
hoping you would notice me
embarrassed that you did.

Our first real date was in the park
among ancient oaks and elms;
the path turned to dirt,
dusted your shoes
so I wiped them clean
with my shirt tail.

You loved the mountains
that skiing trip at New Year
brandy in the glass, fire ablaze
you lounged in my lap
as it were your throne
and so it was.

The first cruise was a disaster
with power lost aboard
food put out to eat it up
before it all went bad
wine substituted for water
(they couldn't get provisions)
yet you were fascinated
by the flying fish we could see
from our room's port hole.

They truly made it up to us
by giving us Alaska free
for that cruise was a lifetime
crowded into the space
of an adventure.
I'll never forget your face
horrified then delighted
at the sight and sound
of the glacier calf ripping free
and crashing into the sea.

Who else has ever
honeymooned in the dessert?
Your lips so cracked
your skin so soft
and the ugliest camels ever
on the day trip to the dunes.
Weirdest of all
the Mercedes passing our hotel
with a grown lion,
head out the window like a dog.

The cliffs on which we stood,
the valleys with sweet wine,
volcanoes climbed, lagoons swum,
reefs snorkeled and beaches combed,
canyons rafted, fields of corn;
wherever we have gone
it's as though your spirit
has infused the land
brought to it a new life
brighter than imagined.

This Atlas of us is a map
of our mutual discovery.
Until I can no longer walk,
or crawl, or roll if naught else,
I will be the explorer of your soul.