17 March 2018

Can a lump of lead,
cry out with passion
as its bottom falls out
bleeding into the flames of love?

Drip, drip, drip
I wonder if passion has died
for this world
for the other
Where is my passion?

I feel her on the tips
of some silver winged creature
A fairy, perhaps,
Smiling wryly,
Reminding me of the sweetness of things.

The Magic. I had almost forgotten.
In this desolate mind of man
awakening to the other half
of my schizophrenic brain.

She smiles, that fairy.
My heart stirs, with love
of things sweet as ecstasy.
Memories of a past not forgotten dream
When I skipped joyfully
through spring bursts budding
Earth.

I love Her.  Now.  Forever.
This is my pain.

For why I am so stupid
To look for love
Anywhere other than
The Source of One who gives it so freely.
Mother.
Earth.
Lover.
Friend.
Home.
I AM.

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