One Image

The mist surrounds everything.
Time is warped, and none can find
a sense of their direction. Quite
suddenly, a clarity emerges - of
form and shape and soul. In bold
relief, two lovers stand, embracing.
An image that must stand forevermore.
For each of us has felt the urge to be
just this - the grace of love that's true.

A long and sultry sigh is rushing through
the multitude - created of the hearts of those
who come to see magnificence in that which
only human flesh can bring into reality.
And so another cycle comes to an epitome
of fullness that we feel so deep within. And
worlds spin, because of this - this love we dare
to live. Startling, the many changes, just one
image brings to bear within our hearts and souls.

And so, we cannot help but seek again -
no matter how the length and breadth
of all our wandering has come to seem
the only way that we can ever know
as true. For this one image of love's verity
will live within the whole of us forever -
in every particle of flesh composed within
our sense of being.

And no matter tides that seem to sweep us,
so unwillingly, within a wake that streams
to nothing more than just a void - we swim
for all we're worth against these tides - to
finally find another space where detachment
must become the most important point we've
ever won or lost. And this detachment tells
it true - for we can never do for any other,
that which we have never come to live
within (and too, without) ourselves.

Again, the mist becomes the gist of everything.
Yet now I hear an echo in a wind just lightly
rising from an unknown place and time; and
its reverberations chime a pealing, almost
pleading amplitude that must include me if
this love is to live on. This is right, and this
is good - for ever must this love come
streaming through the many moods of
life evolving through this flesh and form
that we have barely come to know, e'en now.

No matter scientific spiels, insisting that
reality lies only within intellectual realms
that never came to feel at all. No matter
those religious attitudes of unreliable and
lost and lonely charismatic power of belief.
No, here and now, the power of evolution
must insist we move again - into those realms
as yet unknown and oh, so unexplained.
Where love is the dynamic entity of energy,
refusing every explanation intellect has sought
to bring to be.

It matters not, the delineation of a species
or society or group; nor definitions that can never
quite explain the words we need to speak. What
matters is the very atmospheric energy that we
must breathe to be. Too many live their lives
in condemnation of all they'd never came to know
in youth. And still, this will of love moves on,
offering itself to anyone who dares to open up
and reach for yet another unknown destination.
Trusting that this love will bring to be, a glory
and a tapestry of awesome beauty that is real.

The breaking point of shattering is drawing ever
closer to those lives that once seemed so secure
in fields of blind belief. Yet I have lived through all
too many shatterings. And now I find a welcoming
within the Northern winds - that blow a freshness
into all that I've become. Easing and appeasing all
the sorrow brought to be in past departures.

For quite suddenly, a clarity emerges -
of form and shape and soul. In bold
relief, two lovers stand, embracing.
An image that must stand forevermore.
So once again, I seek to reach beyond
the many feelings that I've known before.
And again, I feel the urge to be just this -
the living, moving, breathing grace
of love that's true...

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .