Love
I think I would love if
never having been taught:
Love, a fiber within my fibers
of being, an ethnic beat within my
vibratory skin--resounding, rhythmic
pulses of heartfelt reflection....
Oh, there is rhythmic refrain
even in the seeming tone-deaf;
symmetry even in the asymmetric –
for most sound begins long before
the audition, and patterns
are preformed by our hidden
attributor, the unseen architect of
all destiny, omnipotence we
sense behind existence, close
as self while elusive as a shooting
star....
To know is to stop living –
and to live, is to love
what we don't know, while
embracing for no other
reason.... The walking dead
fewer than one thinks, though
a deep trench through the soul of
experience.
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