A Grateful Man = A Happy Woman (How to inspire his gratitude!)

“Wow, that was amazing!

     Thanks so much for being in the world and sharing this with us. I’ve had lots of therapy of different kinds, but nothing really boiled it down like this and put it so clearly! I’m looking forward to more…”
~Karen  

NIGHT ON THE ISLAND

All night I have slept with you next to the sea, on the island. 
Wild and sweet you were between pleasure and sleep, 
between fire and water. 

Perhaps very late our dreams joined at the top or at the bottom, 
up above like branches moved by a common wind, 
down below like red roots that touch.  

Perhaps your dream drifted from mine and through the dark sea 
was seeking me as before, when you did not yet exist, 
when without sighting you I sailed by your side, 
and your eyes sought what now- bread, wine,and  love, 
I heap upon you because you are the cup 
that was waiting for the gifts of my life.  

I have slept with you all night long 
while the dark earth spins with the living and the dead, 
and on waking suddenly in the midst of the shadow 
my arm encircled your waist.  

Neither night nor sleep could separate us.  

I have slept with you and on waking, 
your mouth, come from your dream, 
gave me the taste of earth, of sea water, of seaweed, 
of the depths of your life, 
and I received your kiss moistened by the dawn 
as if it came to me from the sea that surrounds us. 

~ Pablo Neruda

I have named you queen. There are taller ones than you, taller.   
There are purer ones than you, purer.   
There are lovelier than you, lovelier.   
But you are the queen. 
When you go through the streets no one recognizes you.   
No one sees your crystal crown, 
no one looks at the carpet of red gold that you tread as you pass,   
the nonexistent carpet. 
And when you appear all the rivers sound in my body,   
bells shake the sky,   
and a hymn fills the world.   
Only you and I,   
only you and I, my love,   
listen to it. 

 ~ Pablo Neruda

                                                    YOUR FEET 

When I cannot look at your face 
I look at your feet. 
Your feet of arched bone, 
your hard little feet. 

I know that they support you, 
and that your sweet weight 
rises upon them. 

Your waist and your breasts, 
the doubled purple 
of your nipples, 
the sockets of your eyes 
that have just flown away, 
your wide fruit mouth, 
your red tresses, 
my little tower. 

But I love your feet 
only because they walked 
upon the earth and upon 
the wind and upon the waters 
until they found me.   

~ Pablo Neruda