By Paul E. Schindler, Jr.
“If you could read my mind love,
What a tale my thoughts would tell.”
That’s the way Gordon Lightfoot sings it.
If you could read my mind?
If I could read yours?
When I was younger
and more anxious,
the day we got married,
you looked into my eyes.
I felt you saw my mind.
I was afraid
You wouldn’t like what you saw.
You were never explicit.
Clearly you saw a mind that didn’t scare you.
Cleary, you saw a mind you could do business with,
In terms of intensity, in terms of intellect.
I had already seen yours,
the night we met.
I glanced in your eyes,
Not a void,
But a beautiful view.
Now, as mature adults,
we have a track record,
we think we know each other.
I think you’d see a love story,
Not a horror story.
Except in this sense:
You’d see a binary world.
You’d see a world of black and white
You’d see no shades of gray.
Your humility would be challenged
By the depth of my love, affection and respect.
“Don’t practice mind reading.”
Still, I’d like to know
What tale your thoughts would tell.
After four decades, I have a clue,
Which is not the same as a codex.
I see love, affection and respect.
I see it in your eyes,
I see it in your heart,
I’d see it in your mind, I’m sure.
Anger? Irritation? Disappointment?
I’d see them too.
I’d see them fleetingly, as
I’d see those thoughts are small and short-lived.
You are your own woman.
You are with me because you want to be,
You are not here because you have to be.
So I know,
I’d find my image in your mind
Much the same as your image in my mind.
Full of loving kindness,
Deserving of loving kindness in return.
If you could read my mind love,
You’d find what you already knew was there.
As would I.