the silent grave

rising from the embersof a moment lost to eternity…love is a healing touch,the nourishing hand,the echo of the selfwhispering from its deepestrecesses… and answering!love is murder… destroyingeverything in its path.love is a knife, cutting the soulfrom its prison of identity…love is a trash truck…picking up the pieces oflifetimes thrown to the curb…love is a broken…

ground with his bare hands….that old tractor has plowedfields season after season…how many winters hasthat old barn seen?how many buckets of waterfrom that old well?how many childrenconceived and bornunder that tin roof?how many times hasthat fence been mended?how many potatoes andcanned goods storedin that old cellar?how many nights spent readingby candlelight….how many pensive eyesstaring through…

held the earthin his hands…until time and stormfinally had their way.the man standingin the shadows,plowed and planted,season after season,till winter greyclosed the last door.the man standingin the shadows,built a houseand a bridge…and swept room and porchtill it was finished.the man standingin the shadows,picked up nests of straw,and opened tiny cages,blowing light from cupped handstill the…

clenched to fists…small eyes, see…big eyes, blinded,confined to conceptions…small hearts, love…big hearts, possess,clipping the wingsof their own dreams!small to big, return to smallfinding our way home!

the old hose with a hole,thrown to the side.the old man in front of the tv,from morning to night.a dog collar by the ashtray,a coffee pot grown cold.a flashlight that doesnt work,a pair of shoes that never fit.books packed in a box,at a three dollar yard sale.the suit bought at goodwill,waiting on the funeral.the last…

is the sound ofyour own heart,crying out for theembrace of all others…a child, nursingat the breast of humanity,knowing only mother,womb, and breast…the smell on your breath,the stink of human need;the taste on your lips,the flesh of hunger!