In Poetry's Distance

Have you ever drowned in deep feeling?
The bus has stopped at its destination—yet it seems
the journey hasn't even begun.
Even in the melody of a beloved song
only 'you' brushes by so gently—
unclear, yet woven into the heart.

My spirit is deeply troubled—
and only the poems written about you
can heal it.
You have never said anything;
yet I know—
these very poems have made you mine,
have made us one.

Does distance grow this way too?
And do these poems bridge that distance?
Gradually you draw near,
yet… the silence never breaks.
You, I—
neither of us learned to break silence,
for the soul's language is just this soundless!

In the deepest corner of the heart
when I return seeking peace—
only then do I realize,
that peace cannot be found without touching you.

Looking into your eyes I found my only attainment,
whose expanse cannot be ignored.
How to live alone with oneself—
this too you taught me.

Captive within the borders of your gaze,
now being alone is not suffering,
but—living without your feeling
burns in deep anguish.

Is this very feeling perhaps—
love?