Thursday, June 18, 2015

River of Love

A river of love flows
out of my heart
non-stop. And another out of yours.

Our torrential flood
flows into the frail human desert
surrounding us,
willing to sustain life in abundance and
the thirst for keeps.

Yet here is sand,
And elusive aboriginal arts aside,
I see no silk and spice in caravan,
no oasis, beyond the slippery banks
of this lonely violent flood.

February 9, 1999

No comments:

Post a Comment

And Wacky Am I

And now wacky am I, I thank you, mother, for the days I take no pill; the oak table that folds upon itself, a hinge, a turn, a hidden b...