Free fall
By boojum
Sun, 12 Sep 2004
- 448 reads
Free Fall
This is a world of made and not of born - e.e. was right.
And yet, each instant with you is Creation,
the birth of moments merging into wonder which needs
no sense of time.
To see your lips, creator, one would think of rock cuts,
finely grooved in imperturbability;
it is not so.
For me, they open, warm and soft and wide,
carrying a liquid tide
of feelings too vast for me to swim.
Your mouth looks chiselled, cool and hard
only in doubting, when it guards
and measures words and meanings, lest they slip.
You wondrous fool, come help me tip
The scales of joy wherein we sit,
Poised and balanced, and afraid to move
Lest we should come to touch, and then to love.
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