Love Lives Here

Love lives here, and I am blessed by it, In these pathways, where so many hearts Beat and intertwine, engaging with others; Learning of love and pain… Desire and dreams… Hate and anguish; Commonalities shared within each, Though no two are ever quite the same. Browsing through the pages, We are like bees, buzzing over A garden of summer flowers, A meadow sweetly filled with clover; Sipping nectar out of Silken-throated velvet blossoms, Reveling in the various subtleties of each, Suffused in density of color And light; Gather we this splendor And retreat to the hive, To store the hoard for colder days; Lonelier nights. May I taste of you, in this instant? May I fondle your soul? Tantalize your psyche? I will give freely, in exchange, of all that I have: Only leave a bit of yourself behind, A gift to fertilize the soil of imagination, To germinate the new fingerling sprouts That will burgeon to bud and bloom. Yes love lives here, in this secluded garden, Gloriously twirling her skirts into rainbows Of iridescent shimmering light That descends upon us, Our reaching tender hearts, And feeds us like a mother Her child. Come and drink deep of this abundance, And be glad for its gifts. Bonnie Cook 5-Apr-02 Written April 6th, 2002 © on Apr 05 2002 03:07 PM PST    0 • 8