for LJ user i_dread
How delicate the web that occupies
us, spider-like, in our attempts to mend
and build this world before the binding dries.
We toil from waking to each day’s end,
constructing fragile lanterns for our light
that sway unsteady in each tender breeze,
imagining a world beyond our sight
where lives some power that we seek to please.
Yet, at the close of all our labor’s use,
just simple threads of gossamer remain;
and all the tidy ends of things unloose
in one short afternoon’s soft, gentle rain.
Still, we build on, despite such evidence,
And cast our shadows, for experience.
03 DEC 2003
Each love, when new, burns with a lusty fire;
it feeds on what it finds without regret,
and warms the soul upon a glowing pyre,
not thinking on those things not happened yet.
Wrapped in the arms of amorous delight,
amazed as each discovery unfolds,
two lovers wait, expectant, for the night,
and in the embers nestle ‘gainst the cold.
They fan the flames and wonder in the heat,
providing fuel with each excited breath;
and when at last they lay as one, complete,
their ashes, like the Phoenix, know no death.
Ah, new love, if it lives through this event
Will be a fire whose source is never spent.
02 DEC 2003
for lj user dougs