| *loolaville _poetry | |||||
| Your Name Is Love In words let me moan, let my being and soul spill faster than lightning strikes or the lids of my eyes might slip shut. Let my groaning strip you, tear your robes and cast you down, bring you into the ground where you can settle, unnamed, untarnished, whole, and new. there you may Grow deep and rise tall, as strong and firm as the redwood. Let me rest in your shade and lean into your trunk, run my fingers across your rough bark and sigh. Enter into my presence, my being, and let me see your face shift, everchanging- into the line of a mother’s hip, the mass of Earth’s waters, the empty ache of the poor man’s stomach. Here I can re-discover you, freely and press to bend the light and expand, so that now, I might have more words for you. Words that ache inside me and twist and turn and tumble out with some sort of half bitter half holy yearning, revived and reborn after your absence - That flutter of time wasted like a crumpled paper tossed along a dirty road. Let my words be: That I know You, You are within me, you are my breath, my blood, the tiny specks of infinity I carry - even within my knuckles and parted lips. You are God, Evermore, Before, Again, Always; the Time we never created but Lived In like children chasing the flash of light flying around the yard on a summer night... You are Savior and Sweetheart, to the tired wife and lonely widow, Life and Mineral to the soil and stream, to the bird’s beating breast. Hope to the guilty, the bruised spirit, the shameful, Guardian to the young and innocent heart. let your infinite chest expand and breathe into mine, so I live, living worthy because I exist and fighting to spill out your greatest name of all, across the Earth, eating it whole with the truth that it’s beauty has taught me: Your Name is Love. |
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