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Too long loving love. Too long!!

June 1, 2014

Not that every flower should be cut
But seeing from afar is not enough.

As I behold the form that so enchants
There stirs within me, something that is part
Of what? This I know not, but that I am that flower
Which to the eye did cause to flow
A surge of me to it to be
That beauteous life; yet not in me but without.

Like a shell burst, the impulse to destroy
Unwittingly overwhelms my being.
Rising from a spark in mid-chest, coursing my veins
Electrifying my body seizing my all
All that ever was, and is and will be
Filling me with passion

Oh ! To savor the fragrance of it’s inspiring beauty !!
But gentle loving scented-beauty soon will fade
While that which first the eye did catch lives on.

Much quicker though, the beauty of the touch
Is gone
For in caress, from me to it did flow not as in seeing
When I received it’s goodness
Perceiving it’s form and gentle color and texture.

So again I touch, unthinking I touch, lovingly I touch
Impulsively I touch, caress, giving with my heart,
My mind through my actions, feeling not the flower
But what I am feeling, taking, giving, feeling.

How nice it is to give on impulse to that
Which of itself is goodness, well being engendered
Coming from within. Something is vibrated on cue
From sight, to it ,or it to me or both at once ?

Then I cut not to receive love but to give, unthinking
I cut ,expectantly I cut, exuberant I cut
There beginning
I destroy, that which wanted of me nothing
But that I love, and be at peace.

No thought to understand, no effort I made
So do we all, each want to receive
And sometimes never see that giving is living
But taking, we cease to love and prepare
For anguish and Death.

Few are they who live not by motion
But by mind, and that which is there
Within us, for us to enjoy
All that is not us, becoming us somewhat,
Enhancing us all

Now are the flowers more beautiful
Now even the bushes love
Now that I see and smell and touch
Now that I never cut

For understanding I let the flowers be
That they can give and I can live
Receiving without taking

Their way was not mine, nor was their beauty
Their way is not mine,
Yet I am as much their beauty


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