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Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Love as Fire

i - O love, you have quartered me,
stretched and drawn on these lines
of spiritual affinity with another,
now living in me; now the very living of me;

O love, thank you for killing me;
for ending what I was, and making me
more in that small palm of hers
than I ever was in my own hands;

O love, I was a butterfly buoyed
by the pull of the wind:
going where ever it carried me
as long as it moved freely;
         now I thank you for this cage of fire
         in which I burn mercilessly;

ii - now I understand why the poets of antiquity
described you as fire, O love;
for fire has no afterthought;
no sense but of the fuel it needs
         to live, as it feeds the hungry animal
         you've caught and tamed in me;

for fire breathes to burn; it burns to breathe,
with so many combinations to its personality,
and where oxygen is for one reason only:
to live and die in the heat of its eternity;

flames as swift as fast, or as steady as slow;
to blow and raise the embers to alight below,
that warms and destroys every living thing
into its one unified degree of burning;

iii - now I understand you, O love, finally;
of your colours coal dark, of your soil earth brown,
of your skin's moonlight glow, and how you
use our bodies as eiderdown to the night;

how you fill our hearts with your sight;
O love, thank you for dressing the darkness down,
for making our shadows the most beautiful
two embracing lovers could ever own;

sealed in a promise to always remain
willing to make the most of us;
to be our greatest witness
as we host you in our home;
         O love, how can I thank you enough
         just for the sound of her breathing alone?

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