Say the cloud forgets that water Can be airborne. Say its lost memory Weights its feet. And say That mountains forget their peaks Are skyheld stone but snowlines Recall the longing to meet. Would Waves emerge, wispy and crested, From white-ridged crevices in blue And steel grey? Would love remain, Grounded, unbested, or surrender To yearnings and romantic rue and Say - even spun air has stony roots But love, love is only and ever its Own. Its desires need no earthing No lumpy boots. It’s joinings cede No sundering, it’s spirit cleaves to No bone.
"Even spun air has stony roots" - wisdom for the ages
ReplyDeleteaged, definitely! :D
ReplyDeleteI have now re-read this poem at least 5 times, first on fb then here. I can't shake the melancholia that is woven together with sweet hope in these lines.
ReplyDeleteHow i miss you! Remember how your last year in College we used to keep singing "never mind I'll find someone like you'! No finding anyone like you two! <3
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