Love Story

Consider this:
I am me,
and you are you,
and we are we,
in this place and age
that so easily shifts and turns
in the tides and flows
that wash time’s rigid arrow clean.

And we together yearn for the beyond
that may be heaven or may be
a better place than where
we live and exist for now,
or at least that is our desire
and that is our dream,
and that is our wish
upon our ancient star.

Consider also that:
I am not the same,
and you will change,
and we will dissolve,
as we move and shift
across new borders of experience
that we never expected or
did expect but did not want at all.

So together we meld in this crucible
that we call a life and from it the new unfurls
and the old finds novel forms,
and all things pass away to find
another shape in this flux that we
call our history and our living,
our places and our sacred ways.

Consider then:
that I am free but not free,
you are open but closed,
and we exist in contract with each other,
as animals in the wild,
civilised and uncivilised,
terrified and certain,
and waiting, ever waiting,
for the day and the hour,
the minute and the second,
in rhythms and schemes that
shape us and which we
also resist and challenge,
as restless creatures of tomorrow.

For together we are strange
beings of wonder,
looking out and looking in,
seeing and not seeing,
imagining and doubting,
being one thing but also another,
as the wolf in sheep’s clothing and
the sheep desiring to eat the flesh.

Consider this:
for I am past,
and you are passing,
and we together are making
the history of us that lives and dies
in memory, for memory is all there
finally is beyond the dreaming
and the push to invent our meaning
in this silicon world.