This is the house of Love, which has no bound nor end.

The Cape

Can you speak sunlight as we stroll
through city streets, returned
from high upon that windy peak
where we watched a rock take on the role
of harmonic oscillator in a dancing ocean,
the stone itself sculpting swirled circles
from every passing wave as a way
of dancing playfully with the duality
which lies revealed in this pattern painted
across sea surface, shining back what you say
as a pair of starlings come to offer presence
and a prayer, so that dinner became just
a jasmine-scented mirror in the hub,
our centre of heart hearing fully
what we must reflect
between red wings and deep roots.

Look again at the plants: can’t you see
there are no saviours left,
all we’re here for is to love,
to leave in peace whatever small piece
of perfection it is we are given to find
and, failing as we must, feel our emptiness
held in the endless hues of falling light
lying like truth in the trunk of every tree
we touched on our trip down
to the point.