Meanderings of Love

November 24, 2011 § Leave a comment

Written in February 2007.

1. Risk

I’ve played Risk with love
laying out pieces of my heart on the map
but I am a lousy tactician
and refuse to gamble
keeping all the little red figures of me/you/us
in the places easily defended
like Australia, with only one way in
or out.

I’m one for three
A victory for me and you and love, somehow,
and two games lost to loss and fear.
(It’s a big board.)

There’s a new game now
Me and you and love and her
And there’s a player in Australia
with one way in or out
and for once
it isn’t me

which scares the fuck out of me.
See? fear chews at my scattered pieces
backs me into corners
till there’s nowhere to go but
you
and
her
and I’m frightened of Australia
with its one way out –
It doesn’t look so safe anymore
with her pieces hiding in its ocean-walls.

It is my turn
and I am afraid
to move.

————

2. Change

is the Wheel of Fortune
all sun and starlight
a breath before the plummet.
“L _ V E”
what could it be
take a spin
bankruptcy
screwed again by

Change

is Death
with its ending and beginning
transformative
necessary . . .
but I hate it and I fear it
and Love is just Death
disguised so it can
sneak up on you
court you with a smile
and ivory kisses
before the scythe blow
of

Change

is the Tower
crumbling tumbling pain
making room for growth
(but that hurts too)
and I’m the
falling
crumpling
shadow
crashing into

Change

————

3. Taming

I keep falling for the wild ones
gypsy rovers with tangled manes
legs chalked in travel-dust
slaves to the next horizon
enthralled by roadsong.

It’s the wild in their eyes
and souls
felinity purring through heated veins
prancing horse-pride
wolf stalking through movement
wary glitterings in the eyes
fang and shadow refusing
to be
tamed.

Somehow I fall in love
with this wilderness embodied
and this scent of deep pine woods
and this autumn leaf-must
and this wind of storm and freedom
it calls me close
to reach
to touch
to own . . .

but this is humanity whispering in my blood
tweaking startled neurons
with that age-old need to
possess
tame
defend
make it yours and yours alone
not enough to watch or
content myself with the gift
of a wildling’s trust.

But to possess and turn the wild
to my hand turns it to
dust and ash and
makes it tame
and a dog is not a wolf
and a cat is not a lion
and a rover tied
is a spirit broken.

I
must not –
cannot –
possess
the wild things I love
for that turns all
into that which
I
cannot
respect.

————

4. Skydiving

she is
not safe
to love

but love is not safe
and that which I love
is never
safe.

I’m learning this game
– slowly, slowly –
risk is change and
opening up to pain
and loss.
(I hate to lose.)

Love is a choice,
he said:
you do not fall into it
but chase it
choose it
leap
into that infernal flame
and be transformed.

How can you leap into your life,
she sang,
if you never jump
at all?

The fire burns
The height terrifies
and I do not trust
these fragile wings –
I haven’t tested them
not yet.

Fear of love and fear of loss
sabotages love itself
that’s me – the saboteur
of my happiness
– Not anymore.

no limits and no fear

let go

think phoenix
and fly.

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