what a love

what a love like this

can do:


scattering not but remaining


as such true, deep and


there is no where to go anywhere but

deeper, deeper into this love


you see


as often as i can and have tried to escape as

(and i proclaim it so) i am like the wild horse running along the oceanside,

i still am upon this earth, running toward this love everso and everlong,

this wind my breath this fire my hair

this love this sun this joy

your heart

the echo

the beat

my legs

the music

an archaic undulating

a smile

life begetting life

a returning and


so, for all of that,

i bow in respect to

what a love

what a love

what a love like this can do.


this quiet deepening and all

metaphors for life on earth become

one metaphor for this love


and since i have stopped trying to

ignore you, deny you, escape you, flee you, my love

since always this mobius strip

of the lost space highway

we call life on earth

returns me to myself and

to

you, my love,


then i am here to receive

and here to give

and i will allow this love to tear me open

and expose my heart

and at once calm my fever

and soothe my wounds

erasing all lies of the mind

which take me from

what god (in the form of nature, apparently, and angels, and dreams) has joined together.


Does it frighten me?

I whisper yes to the silent stars.

They laugh

And the world turns again.