Trying To Make Sense Of It

When I am in love, I am automatically more confused even though I am filled with hope and faith in the goodness of things because of it. I am lightened considerably when I am in love, and yet there is a current of loss from the very beginning. Because I feel more alive, I have so much more to lose. This is difficult because I know beyond question that if I try to hold my love close, to cage it, to call out in warning, all that sort of thing, if I should try that I will lose love sooner rather than later. I am not sure if it is true of us all that we lose love by trying to save it. I know it is true of my experience. Love has me, not the other way around, and love initiates while I receive. In this sense I am as feminine as my partner. We are both under love. Love is my liege lord. Saying “in love” exactly means within the bounds of love, that love is bigger in every way.

Here is a master:

Love's Loneliness

Old fathers, great-grandfathers,
Rise as kindred should.
If ever lover's loneliness
Came where you stood,
Pray that Heaven protect us
That protect your blood.

The mountain throws a shadow,
Thin is the moon's horn;
What did we remember
Under the ragged thorn?
Dread has followed longing,
And our hearts are torn.

William Butler Yeats

And here’s me:

Trying To Make Sense Of It

As if you would give
me a flower one fall day,
me the teacher, you
the student, and I
would snuff the full aroma
of it all the way,
as if an apple,
as if we would ever meet,
as if you loved me.

June 25, 2009 12:21 PM