Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Lover, the deer is wandering the pasture

Lover, the deer is wandering the pasture
and angels are on my ear. I'm learning that arrows
pierce the hearts of those like us, the lovers
ennobled with ludicrous task. Observe the nothing

in acting, observe the ethics of a stone
or tree, observe the evil inherent in man
and god alike. Lover, among the many blows
and trials of becoming is a final, absolute

loss of self in the beloved. Now the deer
lies in the shadows of water oaks, an egret flies
over the mirrored, grey water. Lover, the air

knows us and more, to be like the light clouds
and wander above the land! O love the time
is cruel but all my movement is for you.

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