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p.27, Love in a Handful of Dust by Kirk Ramdath
– Poem, "love in a handful of dust"
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greet a forest of pines
breathe
somewhere close by
runs a hidden creek
listen
robin with a red breast
builds a nest in a tall pine
flying to and fro
from a high place in a tree
to a hollow log below
half reclaimed by forest growth
picking through detritus
for sticks and leaves to build a home
such a simple voice
such a simple need
a perch on a branch,
some mud, sticks, and leaves
then why seems it so particular
with the human species
out of abundance
to make inequality
the forest has so many trees
that blood should never stain the leaves
voice of war
when you speak
why do we listen?
why hasten we from mortal toil
when time already will take all?
leave me in peace
to write poems for the woman i love
my words have made her smile
if i have some skill to craft words
pleasing to her ears
let me devote my life to that
let me spend my nights in her bed
and my days, dreaming of the nights spent in her bed
that i must tarry in that blesséd task
for even a moment
is an outrage
how dare you interrupt this fondest recollection
kissing the cunt
of the most woman
i have seen
or even dreamed
woman, your touch tells me
the impossible is real
your kiss on my lips
tells me to feel
no past, no future
no doubt, no fear
paradise is not a garden
paradise is a rainforest by the sea
the night you were born
a blizzard blasted through calgary
now the light of your life
blasts through me
shatters thoughts
shatters words
you're all i feel
you're all i see –
ecstasy
sweet, sweet dream
you come
you come true
i believe what i feel
only what i feel
words are dust
only love is real
love is the verb
that changes dust into words
take a handful of dust
throw it into the world
END
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