For Love
What the mind idealizes
& the body desires,
something unknown
accelerates, keeps, & makes last.
Some call it soul,
others heart or spirit,
but by whatever name
(& all words lack
something essential)
it preserves, persuades,
& protects.
It is there in the patter
of a child,
in the needful relief of
travel,
& in the shared glance
of any given day.
It is the promise that
makes forever possible;
It is the excitement of
knowing one thing doesn't disappear.
______
Here's a link to a poem I wish I would have written: "Bird-Understander" by Craig Arnold
Here's a link to the Creeley poem that got mine started: "For Love" by Robert Creeley
I guess I didn't notice before, but "all words lack something essential" is another great line. Isn't that the poet's entire problem in a nutshell? Explains too much.
ReplyDeleteGlad you posted!