Monday, March 28, 2016

you say love is like that ...

you say love is like that ...

you say love
is like that
like the rain beating on the roof
and finding its way down through the timbers
until it leaks through the ceiling
and splashes into buckets
collecting the essence of life
in drips
and drops
and drips
until at last each bucket overflows
and the water pools on the floor
where little feet once tiptoed
into rooms of strawberry vines
that bore the reddest and sweetest fruit
so solemnly abandoned and so heartlessly left
to die

you say love
is like that
like the dry desert winds
that blow across the empty land
blowing dust in cotton candy swirls that stick
to the sides of broken-down automobiles
with loose fenders and cracked hood ornaments
that clink
and clank
and clink
in the night-time opera of scraping sounds
when suddenly there is only silence
hushing all the world
and there in the shifting sand
tiny footprints mark a path to where the promised rivers meet
until the trail catches a gust of seething air
and disappears

you say love
is like that
like an angel descending slowly from the stars
down through the darkest clouds
spreading the whitest of wings
over the curve of the quivering horizon
before drumming the night away
in thuds
and thumps
and thuds
until the bluest blue of a summer's sky radiates
over the face of a newborn child
and awakens iridescent spots of light
in such wondrous new eyes
opening for the first time
and fluttering step by step into focus
before catching clarity
and bursting
into tears



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