I tried so hard, so often
to write a poem about you,
for you, but I couldn't.
I started one hundred times,
wrote one hundred lines,
discarded one hundred more.
I'm not even sure why I'm trying,
or even keeping with this pathetic attempt,
but something about just
being with you
makes me feel restless, like
I need to do something with this
extra energy and inspiration
that you impart,
if I could only find the words.

But I'm used to that feeling around you:
not knowing what to say
in the face of such a brilliant soul..
Sometimes you let me see a glimpse of it,
and even that glimpse is something
so humbling; it gives me a sense of perspective,
like standing at the ocean's fringe,
flawless blue glass that fades
into the smoke of the sky,
like staring up and into the night
and seeing the light of stars- of other suns
of so many other worlds.
A star, one hundred stars condensed
into the shape of a human heart
and locked away.
But occasionally I see a shimmer,
a glow from a crack in the façade,
and I'm again reminded of how small I am.

And sometimes, when you let me,
when you open yourself to me,
so slowly, so slightly,
I know why I was drawn to you.
I know why I hated you at first,
even; repelled by the same
current that drove my heart,
that rooted my bones,
that composed my soul.
I feel a kindred spirit,
wounded, hurting;
perhaps you'll heal in time,
but I can't repay you with comfort,
although I'd trade anything
to help you in one small way.
I don't know how to ameliorate
your wounds, so like my own.

But just by being, you
have changed my life.
It sounds so trite, so overused
when I say it, when I think about it,
but it's true.
It seems almost you can read my mind;
you know precisely what to say,
exactly what to do
to make me feel a little less worthless,
a little more like I matter.
And I know I'm not the only one;
you're a flame that catches
on whatever's near.
In your wake you leave currents—
tiny ripples composed of one hundred
tiny smiles or kind murmurs—
that sweep up anyone and everyone
near to you in an ever-widening arc
just because you're

You don't even realize it,
claiming that you do just the opposite;
and then I hear that echo of myself in you.

You just can't believe that to someone,
to one hundred someones,
you're more than just someone.
And one day,
you'll be the one
that sets someone's heart aglow
with the light of one hundred stars.