Image borrowed from YahooSome day hopefully
we will meet our own gaze
in a storefront, or see
in the eyes of beggars,
or priests or parents or partners;
the truth about that sensation
radiating in our chest,
and the lucky ones
will experience the epiphany,
the disrobed realization
that Love never claims victims--
that is a role only self-inflicted.
We want to be, need to be participants
in Love, recipients, consumers,
beings transformed by it, resculpted
and reconstituted into multi-souled organisms--
for it is only love that completes us all,
and without this wisdom
we are just running naked
down a street of broken glass
looking for shoes.
Glenn Buttkus
February 2011
Would you like the Author to read this poem to you?
4 comments:
ts beautiful Uncle Butch, really cool that I may have inspired one of my greatest poets, YOU! I love you so much, and thanks for always commenting on my posts. xxxooo's ♥♥
Great poem, Glenn. What do you think about changing the title? 'Naked', perhaps?
Best wishes
Lynne
My feet hurt.
Oh, lovely, sick Jack Valentine, I wish you back a luscious stick of pep’mint rock.
How quickly we forget the sleeping maidens and lovesick lads we’ve devoured. --David
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