~ when love precipitates, selfishness evaporates ~




© 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.

O Rain maker! Don't charge me with lightnings,
My cries echo like thunder;
Empty me like that docile cloud which 's just
Wept over the world round,
That calm and peaceful white cloud–
Father of gale hovering over the green
And beneath the phoebe.
My soul is ready yet
Why isn’t it evaporated?
O Maker! "Where art thou!" Flare of glory!

In the ocean was a drop of oil
not wanting to cease the boundary
but when the oil drop plummeted well
in the vast expanse of the profoundly
seamless ocean waves, and when it
hit the endless particles of water
he saw that love was all there was
and love was all there is, and love
is all there will be, and he melted
into the heart of the ocean, only to evaporate
so that part of it, could come back and
love the ocean like by being
a drop in the sea, but also the parts
of it which didn't make it, had learnt already
Where ever they were now, were already burnt
in the love of knowledge of love, for love
is what there was
and Love is what there is

These copper wires that hang from my head,
heat up so quickly, my mind is so sickly.
Can't be cooled until you've poured water over of my head,
that leaves me drenched only to be dried up again.
This slight evaporation. Oh what this head has done to me.