this isn't love
I've never heard anything so profound
as the rebounding silence
which greeted Mandi when she
asked the world to come on out
Even so, along we go dancing,
through fires, across edges,
following precipitous ridges and scree slopes,
desirous of kindling MORE fires, and precipitating
more avalanches of scree snow
and ultimately collapsing whole
sides of mountains,
as envoys we rush to deliver what we
have been given.
But how can we tell the world that this isn't love?
With tears of joy sprung from the wells in our heart
how in the world can we say that this isn't love
to a world
that separates love from hate?
How insane to stay
in this world
where "love" is not much more than "not hate"
when in ours
"love" is only all, and everything included!
How do we tell the world that this isn't love?