Travel Plans - England - France - Spain - Poetry - Contact

Love is the only language

I said

 “Love the language

that translates

differences

 

I said that,

I said
“Love is the language

that translates differences

 

And when two people

agree to speak

that language

They understand

 each other

and when they cease

to speak

 to each other

in that language

 life becomes

a tower of Babel

and the differences

become incomprehensible

 And the Man

devours distances

 

Or so said Robert Bly

And I’ve said so myself,

The man

devours

distances

and the woman

embraces

bitterness

 and neither on can be consoled

 

Love is the language

     that translates

    differences

          and in its absence

we make other arrangements

 

Mostly political,

an alliance

against a common foe,

at best

Mutual assured destruction

at worst

 

 

Practical agreements

negotiated

like wary adversaries

giving up

only as much

as they dare

 

Not so much a truce

as a suspension

of distrust

 

Not so different

than animals

at the watering hole

Not so different

 

We all thirst

on that we all agree

Thirsting

 but once slackened

one by one

we fade back

into the savanna

back into the cover

 of the tall grass

and the darkness

where eyes glow

 like Hungry stars

 

Where the future

 is a night

with no horizon

where the shadows

of crumbling watch towers

dot the landscape

 

Where love is the only language

that translates

differences

 

and silence

sweeps

through the heart

like a scythe