A Simple Task
I who had learned to walk by
touching the earth,
knew not one thing
until
my ever-cleansing Earth touched
this magnificent frailty,
graced in the freedom of gifts.
I who was given my breath and
breathed--
Listen!
only the Divine breathes
I who was given my eyes to see
was blind
that blindness may see
I who held Life in small distances
loved not
until all distances disappeared
as this small sad little life I held
in jealous grasp
--a pulsating star farther-reaching--
ended.
In Silence.
Yes it was I who suffered--
in abosolte despair,
in horror thrust upon my Innocence
and my Calling is not enough--
all of You are enjoined
in my plea of living This Solitary Life.
I have Love to give,
This simple task.
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A Rose, A Thorn
Why speak of tears and love,
an incongruity,
perhaps the answer is the question
of why speak at all
if
Love doesn't tear us limb from limb
and
torture our Soul from our gaping mouths
extracting a certain vengeance
in the mattter of tears and tearing--
a recognition of water
we are nothing but water
and salt
commodities
bargained for and lost
perpetually
abstracted and absconded
a device, a thorn
to remove a thorn
when all we ever wanted
was to be as beautiful as a Rose.
an incongruity,
perhaps the answer is the question
of why speak at all
if
Love doesn't tear us limb from limb
and
torture our Soul from our gaping mouths
extracting a certain vengeance
in the mattter of tears and tearing--
a recognition of water
we are nothing but water
and salt
commodities
bargained for and lost
perpetually
abstracted and absconded
a device, a thorn
to remove a thorn
when all we ever wanted
was to be as beautiful as a Rose.
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