My love
said to my love
I am here.
Be with me,
and fan the flames
of true existence.
My love
said to my love
I am here.
Be with me,
and fan the flames
of true existence.
Hemingway
Standing in the street,
In a blue thin striped shirt,
And short white shorts,
Hands in pockets,
Slightly balding,
Looking for a sign,
Waiting solemn.
1/ Glide on
My surface
says
The water.
I will welcome
You as a mother
Does a child.
2/ Outline me says
The cloud,
And the light
Acquiesces.
3/ Walk through me
says
The breeze,
And the body
obeys.
4/ Listen to me
Says the universe
And the mind
listens
With all its heart.
My father taught me
to
stop and look up,
To survey the stars,
Each night
before you close your eyes.
Have mercy
Ring a forgiving bell
Dispense the milk of human kindness
A flow that will nourish you as well
Withhold it for yourself
And there is only living hell
————————-
Remember the Jews , Armenians, Greeks, and countless others that have experienced these horrors of human brutality.
Naked we come into this world and
Naked we go out,
And In spite of all
Our coverings,
Little do we
Control or know
Of consequence,
Except with out a doubt
For our behaviour.
Some abide
in the metaphysical
clouds above,
Some in the levels
below.
The questions are
How low ?
And
Which direction are
We going?
How do we know ?
It’s a question of Love.
How well are you loving?
The boatman is ambivalent.
He is unsure whether this side
or that side is preferable
whether pauper or king it be,
but he is still thankful
even with his trepidation
for his boat and his oar.
And he knows travelling
back and forth that the journey
is the thing
That matters.