How can we love we truly well? she said.
For you are over many seas and dale and dell
and though the distance makes a difference
to the mystery (plus we know no history)
I fear that longingness will take its toll
upon the soul
of who we are
when we’re afar.
Then he began to speak
(and she could tell his eyes were closed
for then his mind could ravely roam
across the brine that foamed on all those seas
which lay between their ancient dreams):
Those deepful water realms, he said,
are where I live and dive by day and night;
they pose no threat for they are just some
slightful drops compared to all the oceans
that we had to cross from one world to the next
[or were they parallel? For one can never really tell
in terms of time (according to our puny minds)].
If Moses threw apart that sea
so armies could be drowned in their futility
I have no doubt that oceans can be shrunk
as if through a straw some angel sucked
and drunk them out of space and time
until their watery significance exchanged
itself for something infinitely more sublime.
I stand upon the edge of that sea now no
longer wondering quizzly how it will evaporate
by rays of heat then condensate within some
other galaxy where it no longer matters much to
youandme. But what I do know is a tsunami
has just begun from which we will not need to run
or hide or swim against the tide but only let it
take us on its waves — a moving ocean flowing us
and blowing us — yet not apart but side-by-side.
© 2012, Alan Morrison