Love  is  who
you  call  for
while  dying...
in  the  name
of  living.

A river runs
upon the ground
to hear the
continual song...
of relation
and passage.
The ground is set,
the river is not.
The heart has
cupped this water,
in a fit of compassion.

Those extremes
that beat color
to mood, pave
the way that was...
and you just stop
there and look
at me.
An ache so dull,
your figure's left
uncut.

There was this little girl's
face in a passing stroller...
a thick streaking
tear lay on her left
cheek.
Except, her ******
expression was now
one of utter calm.
Her eyes were wide
with expanse, the
Great Consoler had
already dissolved
her little problem.

Caught somewhere
beyond telling...
a trembling
ghost's nerves
tied to
changing cosmic
lights.
What was action
before thinking, now
thinking after action.

In obeisance
the mind relinquishes
its intellectual property.
To realize how Bright
the  idealess.