The Beloved's Love
George H. Humbert, Jr.
I could write and recite poetry to You
for hours on end
The birds, the trees, the sunrise and sunset
are all just waiting to be spoken.
The currents of streams, the rustling of a breeze,
breaking waves, creatures great and small
draw from my soul an image
of the Beloved,
who first spoke the Poetic Word
calling them into being, from void to valor.
Every hour, like a carillon bell, in a Prayer tower,
I could mount a mountain of words
And set them spinning Your spirit
round and round
like the spiral of a well tuned chakra
in harmony with your heart . . .
Day and night I would speak of Original Love
that called all hearts into being and
that makes laughter and tears to mingle
in salty sweetness.
But alass, while the spirit is writing and reciting
the body must rest and be renewed
by dreaming of being held
in the Beloved's kind embrace.