I am a newbie - this is for poets that have inspired me. |
What of love each poet speaks, unbidden of their own? Through them, the fabric of passion in the universe is woven. Silk, Oak, softest cashmere, joined, beautifully formed granite, surfaces are textures swirling to blend in the tapestry, that clothes the spirit. In cold, against the shiver of sadness, despair and darkness, the weave is tight and bound with faith and trust. Giving blessed chill in humid heat as sunlight bares it's sliding, rippling sweltering rays, the garment coaxes the excited breezes over skin enchanted. The world turns ever steady while love releases or embraces us. We delight in the mysteries of it's eyes, deep pools of discovery, yet uncovered. Men are fools and women weep when love departss our souls, or when it's cracked and torn away. Ever mending is this fabric of love, wise trusting, outcome unknown. Days unfold,love delivers what it will between the cloak of time and boundless space. The spirit soars looking down, sees the quilt that covers mother earth. Loves past, present, perhaps those not yet formed. My loves were badly chosen, all for them, not for me. Small steps to learning love's enlightenment, come to me through poetry well written. Scripted from the tender souls of poets many, I learn the ways of love. |