Everything conceivable travels in cycles.
though I can barely discern them
I am at their mercy.
Born under the sign of balance
and at constant odds to retain it
I am subject to delicate catastrophes.
Born of the air and ruled by Venus,
I glide each night with the birds-
perfect imbalance in dynamic progression.
Still naïve enough to freely submit
to dangerous fits of hope and passion,
and vulnerable enough to proclaim:
“Everybody I love you!”
even though I know
desire is the root of all discontent.
Feeling with my head/Thinking with my heart.
Fumbling through phases of stages,
fluctuating between extremes-
each fruit in its time.
Blessed, or am I cursed
with so many people,
unique relationships each.
I alternate: Crazy busy!
Too many friends to nurture each chance.
Too much love spread too thin.
No time to think about where I’m going.
Then? A grinding halt.
Entropy forces me to succumb.
I am caged by
laziness, boredom, loneliness,
Too busy thinking to DO.
That army of friends have all skipped away
each, to their own destinies calling
and one by one
they are lost in the haze I pass through
to navigate the fog ahead.
All, gone. All lost.
One to a fight-
one to a marriage,
some to the lure of the world
some to the urge to nest-
Phone numbers lost.
Or fallen, to the final curtain call of death.
Maybe the will to keep the flame afire
Yet, I remain open:
open to love
and loving and falling in love.
(Though strangely unused to being loved.)
Of all my lovers/all my friends,
time must take its toll.
A parade of faces fills my mind
materializing from memory-
personalities, keeping me guessing:
Bernie- taken by the streets of Hollyweird…
Beth- northern bound…
Joyce- off to Tahiti! …
Bob! Jim! Paul! The three stooges float away…
Tracey- back to New York…
Theresa- here, and then gone…
And Grandma Keelan-
gone back to the ground.
Now, it’s just me and Michael,
Michael and me-
floating in a happy-go-lucky bubble
of theoretical questions
and rhetorical answers,
What are we searching for?
And the absent-
have they found anything
besides harder questions?
The entire commune clan
disintegrates like mist.
Complicated entanglements fray.
What happens to Love
when the people who housed it go away?
Where do I put
all this surplus-Love?
The next love is out there-
spinning round now
in a whirlpool of fate,
ebbing and flowing,
turbulent and then calm…
But I can feel the tide turning-
sucking the two of us in.
And where will it end?
(8- 6- 77)
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