770900
8
Pain, the nemesis of love,
festers in its own wound;
forgiveness lay rotting
in fields of hate;
umbilical link severed:
physical and spiritually.
If only we could be as the eagle,
stirring the nest…stirring
that eaglets learn the reality
of survival; rather than
being like the larvae of the beetle
of human emotions—
boring and devouring its prey
from within—leaving an empty shell
of what once was a spiritual being.
The symbiotic nature of nature,
balances into a mutuality
of the nature of her human creatures—
with liberty of decision—often ending
in a quid pro quo scale. Buoyed.
The sea of human emotions
sends frothing waves
splashing equally the shores
of life’s times:
be it high or low tides,
the moon of misery wields
the trepid gravity of the pain of hurt.
Why must the sunset
on the horizon of atonement?
leaving sorrow and repentance
lingering beneath skies of hope;
darkening with the dread
of a hurricane of vanity.
The ship of love seeks no recompense;
just a safe harbor to anchor
and be moored in a pleasant berth
of a wharf thereof.
Grant…there will be a firmament
of love above life’s waters,
and may the soaring dove avenge
the devouring hawk’s feast.s
