“There are tears at the heart of things, and men are touched by what human beings have to bear.” ~ Virgil, Aeneid
Oh love I want to lie in your lap full in the sun,
to bring everything I have that’s querulous,
tremulous, divided from this air dripping
with nectar from the tulip trees in bloom.
Will I remember what this moment
might have been? So often the world
overturns in the bowl of the spoon.
Its silver flashes like a warning at noon.
And still I forgive its afflictions,
what it sows, hard and bright:
salt and ore in the heart of things.
In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.