If I speak of love
I cannot speak for tomorrow -
tomorrow has its own
unscripted voice.
Insufficient, today's tongue
speaks in accents of yesterday
informed by experience
a path already trod.
The embrace of this moment,
this emotional infant moment,
selfishly suckling immediacy
contains all the love that I have.
(incidentally the flower in the picture is known hereabouts as 'love-in-a-mist')
2 comments:
...and at times, that moment-love
seems
not enough.
Glorious inadequacy that draws us ever
to sufficient Christ-love for
our failure.
Loved this...
I like this poem very much, especially:
"its own unscripted voice".
I like the "today's tongue...trod" alliteration with its reach back to the first stanza "tomorrow - tomorrow".
Yes, this "moment", this "infant moment" is all.
Wonderful poem!
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