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All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems
permission to use
provided by the author. |
Before earth, water, and air is fire,
On which all subsists,
Not as flame on oil,
Nor candle on wax, but with-
In, as in us, each
Element in love.
So we are:
Each organ mad with lust, tingling,
The blood eager to cleanse the spleen, nerves
Hungering for connection.
Gifts are tongues of flame.
A blood cell delivers its gift of oxygen. Why?
Brain cells surrender memories.
Reasons are beside the point.
In love we do only what we cannot help,
Each pinpoint moved by frenzy,
Longing to give, to be accepted, consumed.
Most of us have ideological toes,
Or live brightly, with understandings
More reasonable than real.
Around us, within us, is fire,
Non-consuming,
Delivered from flame.
Do we see it?
Absolute, messageless.
Do we see this dark, unradiant fire? |
