Love,

          It surrounds us,
          It crowns us,

         It seems to be against us,
         However; it is always on our side,
         It has nothing to hide,
         It is true, wise, and free.
         Love is something even the blind can see.

         We want love,
         We need love,
         But, do we know love?
         Because,
                    
                            God is love.

ive been drawing for you all day
impermanent scrawlings on the white board
im just trying to keep my hands moving
so my students dont have to see me weep
because today its not going to be pretty
one of those hard lump in the throat ones
i would have taken pictures of them
the doodles
but you know how i am with technology
all thumbs if thumbs werent the only thing you needed
you keep coming to me in my sleep
and in a cold sweat i search the house
for your wet foot prints
and now your visage is imprinted
in orange and yellow dry erase
camera phones clicking behind me
performance art that hurts
wild and swooping gestures
leaving tracers to be erased

"What do you want?"
He said.
"I'm really just working
on the basics,"
I replied.
Wait,
in the movies
This isn't work.

I landed on a square.
No, no, no.
A square landed on me.
He said,
"Do not pass Go
Do not collect $200."
When I laid paralyzed
On this square,
No, no, no.
Under this square.

Did the square know
It was sending me
back to the beginning?
It.
That is what he has become.
It.
The square I landed on.
No, no, no.
The square that landed on me
next to all the other thimbles and irons
turned battleships:
Sunken.

I laid a needle and thread out on the table.
I whispered, "This is for when you are able
to sew yourself up."
Empty room.
I wait for my fingers to grow back.
Like sea star limbs--
nubs at first.
Then, with articulation,
my new sprouts grasp
the fine alloy:
thin and frail.
"Okay," I whisper, "now it is time to sail."

The world was once flat.
People were once Gods.
Myths were once fact.
Earth was once the center of our universe.
People were once owned.
We once believed in innocence.
Continents once did not exist.

Now we **** for convenience,
Hurt for pleasure,
Cry without pain,
Leave behind those who might burden with their grief,
Inflict tragedies without meaning.
We have been wrong before, why is now so different?
Fact has been proven fiction, fiction proven fact.
What makes us think that we can see now, if we were once so blind?
Knowledge is power, but ignorance is just as.
Are we, or are we not? Can we make sense of our world before it is gone?
That is the one question that is neither fact nor fiction,
Which is precisely why it needs an answer never found.