Peering Through the Veil

Last night, you and I were walking

in the brightening air of evening

overlooking the blue-green sea.

 

The hiss of the incoming surf soothed us

from the shock of "normal" living, such as it is.

 

We laid down in the crook of a meadow

and talked of dreams and stars,

and maple leaves that look like stars

fallen to the path beneath our feet.

 

Your face kept changing. 

So did mine, so you said.

And then I saw it.

The hidden gold just beneath the surface of things

laying dormant like honey-in-wait;

the frozen amber of the infinite

containing all the stories, poems, and songs

that haven't been released yet

into our shared movement, mind, and breathing.


Love Is Not Enough

Some old romantic flower-toting part of me,

that I probably inherited from a grandmother along the way,

didn't want to believe it when I first heard the turn of phrase.

Love is not enough

 

I recoiled.

I may have even retched.

It up-ended something in me,

for I had shown up with my heart on my sleeve.

 

"What darkness-ladened audaciousness is this offense!?"

A woman I'd fallen for once

had the gumption to posit such a salt-in-wound theorem as this.

Love is not enough.

 

I wasn't really 'seen' by her.

[Are we ever?]

I didn't really see or know her either.

[I've since revoked my travel visa to the Land of Blindspots and Wishful Thinking]

 

And so, after nearly traversing the gauntlet of five decades,

I now have to agree.

Love is not enough.

Love is not enough. 

 

Love is not enough if, by 'love,' we mean possessiveness.

Love is not enough if, by 'love,' we mean trying to nail down another's ever-changing soul.

Love is not enough if, by 'love,' we mean someone trying to corral our spirit

or hammer us into a shape like an object to sit on a shelf.

Love is not enough if, by 'love,' one means:

'You are the outer image of my exiled inner lover. Play your part, or else.'

Love is not enough.

Love will not be enough.

 

If, however, we have flung open the shudders

and let the light back in.

If we've thrown prayers and salt into the corners of our 'house'

and chased out all of the ghosts and other unwanted tenants.

If we've finally Sourced ourselves in The Source,

a force so vast it encompasses everyone and everything else,

then Love will be enough.

Love will be enough, for nothing and no one stands outside of it;

and what once was a desperate prospect

of trying to be healed or quenched from the outside-in

becomes an inside job.

Then, and only then, will love be enough.

And from the inside-out

love becomes communion.


(c) 2018 / Frank LaRue Owen (Wandering Stone Lantern) / purelandpoetry.com

sound: The Ghost In Me / Wanderlust / Terra Ambient (Jeff Kowal)

--in memoriam: dedicated to the life journey and creative journey of the late Jeff Kowal (Terra Ambient), a good-hearted bruddah and talented composer, whom we lost to pancreatic cancer in 2016. Also dedicated to the love journey of Jeff and Caitalyn...whose love was more than enough. 

 

 

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