In the garden,
old steps forgotten
can be relearned,
a pause in your own dance
sometimes necessary
to witness and honor again
those lovers and opposites,
ironically, flawlessly
meant to be matched,
who meet and feed,
each upon the sweetness
of the other
in open abundance and joy.
a wheeling reel of life—
giver and receiver,
now the flower,
now the bee,
then the flower’s seed
and bird.
Bow, drink, feed, love.
Turn.
Become food.
Or god; perhaps they are the same.
silently studied
by the lover in you who,
seeing Love’s circular dance,
loves the world better…
to offer
then turn again,
to receive
sweetness and sustenance.
the dance goes on.
Bow, drink, feed, love.
Turn.
Become food.
Or god; perhaps they are the same.
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