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

Forget Full

A flight of starlings finds me forgetting
every word I ever knew, but one.

One simple word which binds me,
like birdsong, winding back
through history’s endless mornings
as if I had really lost you,
oldest friend, left you to be
consumed by all your burning love,
when really it was just to see
the strength of our belief in this
umbilical cord, buried in the burnished rocks
and rhythms which have risen
into every sunset, fallen into every sunrise
since we parted, completely at peace
in the knowledge
that our paths are crossed forever;
that all we are is the shadow of God,
here so the light can show itself.


We are bound

To existence