The Return

"Love's Fury”

 I greet what I love

With my heart's blood

And my senses wither

In love's fury

Hadewijch of Brabant, a 13th Century Beguine

 

The Return

What did I expect?

In the opening of

my heart to 

unbounded love

there is little 

possibility

or reason for that

matter to return

unscathed by 

love’s furry.

 

Why am I surprised?

 In the letting go

of easy judgments,

for example:

of rich and poor,

allowing the flood

of humanity to rush

into the vacant space

left behind, I struggle

to breathe through gills 

I didn’t know I had.

 

Can one really be prepared?

 In the dislocation

of the comfort that 

is the ordinary world of

smothering distraction,

now standing fully exposed

to the life and love

that lies beneath,

all reasoned expectations

melt like Icarus’ wings

in the Holy heat of the 

African sun.

 

Now is the time,

this is the space,

for the Sabbath Pause

between the cracking open

of my heart and the

movement back 

into the ordinary world 

so that Africa’s wine

can ripen where it rests

in my being into a vintage

to be shared among friends.