I trust in you and your decision but know that hate is love and
love is hate when all they see is you.
Is love just hate and hate just love?
No space between? Is not hate just love’s
You’re right. I knew that once. But ... or, is love
just hate’s frustration?
When nothing can be faced, then all spins to the opposite
when, perhaps, forgetting comes and spreads its glow,
like the moon upon the sea.
Do you want that? Do I? Is that not just
a silent beetle treading? Can nothing
be faced? A sea? A desert?
Are you saying that of me,
throwing out truths and hurt
like dung or confetti ? So glib? So easy?
You used to speak to me
in truth – you told me things I did not know,
I did not want to hear. And yet, I knew,
or now I know, that those who love
have that other’s truth as theirs – their
sun makes that shadow show.
And, I told you more, and do so still, which shows
you loved me more than I did you, so silent now.
I have felt your love and felt the love
in me - maybe first time ever; I do not know.
But, now, the truths I called from you
have shaken me, not just leaf and branch,
but all of me, my tree of knowledge,
my tree of me.
For good, for now your understanding is complete …
in this cone of candlethought, amongst the grin
and talk and the lonely’s chatter,
in this forest – dark of imaginings and
stir - in this spirit of ‘I’ve understood’,and yet,and still, this world of ‘could’ not ‘would’.