I may not have learned much, but this I know—
All mourning is borne of love.
And if Love does not cut deep into marrow of bone,
Then it is not Love but pretense, mere half-steps
Moving away or toward those who are careless strangers,
Blue shutters open but windows tightly closed.
Only when you’ve lived a long time alone,
Come to know deeply what you own,
Walked empty cobblestone streets—
Vacant windows slammed shut in your face,
Then you learn to listen early in cool mornings
As water runs beneath dry stones under bare feet.
I’ve wandered lost in byzantine worlds
Until I finally found myself,
Simply lying prostate in exile, seeking Home….
Heavy freight in the empty heart
Now shown on lines of brow of my face….
Arms always reaching toward someone I love.
Only as I’ve slowly learned to listen,
Married to what is seldom, if ever spoken in daylight…
Discerned in broad but meager silence
New languages that lover’s speak as they touch—
As if molding each other from wet clay,
Reach out at cry of daybreak after solitary hours of sleep….
Threshold disappears and the path rises along the jawline,
Early light revealing Heaven forever entwined with Earth.
Each of us sings like the stones in the brook, reclining….
Remembering refrains lost so many years ago—
Emerge again as ice melts in early months of spring.
Even though I’ve spent years alone, reflecting,
Searching within, though sometimes estranged from myself,
It took darkness to lose shallow false answers.
At last free, voice soft, eyes smiling, released to be truly myself—
Slowly learned to give up hope or expectation
That sweetness of another’s love would save me from hate.
Only after loving for years, slowly I’ve learned
Nothing within dark worries justifies fear.
Now I feel only pain in service of health,
Pearls falling from eyes as hot tears,
Glory of morning worth the walk on blue shuttered streets.