My Fond Heart

The pretensions of the sages offering
the philosophical meanderings of their
wisdom like prophets of old can be
tediously troublesome, fodder for the
credulous who believe whatever they hear
or read, but an assault on the sensibilities
of those capable of measuring their own
emotions, sufficiently so to know that
the tired old adage that Absence Makes
The Heart Grow Fonder is an abstract
reflecting a mind that has never truly loved.
For when you, my love, are absent from my
sight, my touch, my hearing for however
long, my heart throbs with anguish
wondering when you will return to me
so I can observe you, feel you, speak
with you, enjoy every aspect of life
together that our existence offers those as
fortunate as we. An absence of your close
presence is a torment of concern until
you return and my mind is set to rest.