The language of Love

Silence, that endless aggravation of agony,
in the pursuit of 'truths'
ever-evasive,
ephemeral in all un-eternity,
a knowledge un-consumable
except for in the here and now.

Separation,
sometimes a distance of another's creation,
sometimes a cage of one's own choosing,
often an exile,
imposed, borne, endured, embraced!

Laughter,
the melting of warm hearts
in the clear sunshine of kind compassion,
joyful cheer echoing wild
in the gaiety of abundance!
melancholy at times, turned inside out,
sometimes a cruel melody
played on the rusted cold strings of vengeance ..

Touch,
fresh leaves,
sprouting on the branches of consciousness,
dew drops on the petals of a rose,
the pitter-patter of raindrops
on a rusted tin roof,
gusty winds blowing through wilderness,
setting wild fires enrage,
a mighty river rushing through highlands and low,
the drowsy stirrings of a dreamy sea.

Un-worded, un-grammared,
in-curatable,
sans a script,
the language of love,
cast care-freely
in silence, separation, laughter, touch!

- as winters advance