2010 ©

Love’s Andante, she weeps- there is no other experience like him.
Love’s Andante, she weeps- she once set beside him, before leaving him,
There is no other experience like him; a keyhole to the Universe
So she peered,
As he turned and opened
The Horizon’s then parted,
Unto its immeasurable Eternity

Like waving a wand, playing its band of magic
Having peered in
We all dazzled, that it was we to see,
Treasures pilfered by the centuries, high within-
They come spilling forward,
Dazzled in their shining lights
Of their rubies and Gems,
Of this Waltz’s in..

Love’s Andante will bide its time;
Her gallop riding underneath the pace of the wind,
The silent one watches
And waits for winter to begin.
Its frore indifferent
An opaque whispering
Casting spells into mountains, across its plains, wind wisps-
Eyes mystify,
In reverence, is this mystical ice-
That of like the liquid of dreaming,
Endorse the intrigue into sheer awe
Its wintry breath shuddering upon her neck, chilling the spine to the soul of eternity.
Beyond the time of her being
Until she wakes
Into the Night’s realm beyond dreaming- and she is filled with the mystery of Love,
Of a Love’s resonate in sanctity
A Love in worship
A Love exalted
And a Love that exhales,
From a Life’s worth waiting
Of all the Love that it could, did and had indeed enveloped,
Her breath smooths and soothes; the song of Love playing in her mind,

Now the Fall will turn as a dance, in its gracious acts Attending,
To the Kindnesses
Expressed of being near, such being, she is being
Now nearness’s
Of Love’s gentle grace
Love’s being expands
Into an endlessly,
That I will always be near you.
I will always be near to you.

Now sush Lovely being
And cry because your heart expands
And it breaks, so that it may reach,

The beginnings of the strands of time, of our time,
Of when time began as the concept of ourselves-

Your meditation nestles within me,
Of a softest embrace
And I will remember
I will remember…
I will remember your way
Your long and Lovely grace

How far it extends
Since that concept of time we begin again, within ourselves

Though slowly,
For we will take this time slowly, that this time
A Love’s Andante bides its time;
That the time may stretch
Until it becomes a memory of Love,
A memory stained
In Love…

A tickled pleasure, of,
Into a rhythm,
A rhythm of its own tempo
A tempo lulled,
By the cosmos that move
They shape-shift in silent
As does the pulse of rhythm
That I will grasp onto,
That the Love is slow, journeying the illusion of time,
Even as the Love is fire!
Fires from the births of time,
They burn into a helix of wonders merging
Upon ideas of form,
Before the sands were forged into indefinite.

And so the Love will linger there
Into its long and Lovely grace.
Stretched by the hand of Thee, those of whom orchestrate
Until all is a memory of Love,
A memory stained
Into Love…
Shape-shift by its permeating silence, standing,
Bands of magic unraveling starlit rings,

You’ve taken me to this place.
I was there once before-
Though trapped,
Into the palace of Love,
Where I saw Love spilling, escaping, binding and breaking into Love,
I will turn to face the arcane of this silent act, and, but to fall too deep
Great are its vastness’s, spellbound, its depths-
Loving what is created, forgetting what is lost,
Finding what is new, and now, yet not known

She weeps, there is no other, there is no other.


L Joy
Fall 2010
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