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Thursday, April 3, 2014

Poem for April 4

A THREAD OF LIGHT VII.                                                                    

                        And what is love?  To be human
                        is to allow It to pierce you with
                        Its tender arrows, though you
                        feel certain you will die.
                        Only we don’t die.  We live
                        more vividly.  Life without Love
                        is like a streambed through
                        which no water runs, like a
                        house without a clock that
                        chimes the hours so musically
                        that you wait eagerly for the
                        next one.  Or like an afternoon
                        sitting on the bank of a small
                        river without sun to intensify
                        the green of grasses and mosses,
                        to lift the warm brown of the
                        sand, patient between the black
                        hulks of rocks, into view.

Connections that stay also change.
They begin in the unlikeliest way,
persist against a lifetime of odds,
then keep transforming themselves
and us.  The point is: we’re hooked.
There’s no way we will let go
if we’re honest with ourselves.
That’s all that is asked, but it’s
non-negotiable.  You see, if we
deny what we feel, it turns ugly,
and sooner or later our souls die.
Acting on what we feel isn’t
required, though it helps if we
can find a reasonable, mutually
agreed upon channel where
feelings may safely move and
not undo us.  Putting the fire
in a fennel stalk is only a
temporary solution.  Mutual
work for the sake of others
works well.  The fire has to be
delivered.  Use it to wake
people up.  What else are our
lives for except to give away
everything we’ve learned?  Make
every single suffering step count.
Then die happy.

Judy Hogan

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