Through the beautiful mountains
Of a third-world country
I visited
Many towns and villages
Where people lived in what I called poverty
The more I drove
The more I realized how much I have
But how little of it I need
I visited
Many towns and villages
Where people lived in what I called poverty
The more I drove
The more I realized how much I have
But how little of it I need
In form
In structure
In colour
In time
Beauty pens her poetry
Deftly in the nature of things
Pretense
Distraction
Aggrandisement
Avarice
I find my presence
In the present
And in that presence
Is love
I demand
You deny
I beg
You withhold
I am quiet
You listen
I am still
You approach
In that way
Love is as pure as light
As powerful as gravity
As infinite as time and space
Connecting me
To all that is
To all I need
A secret:
And the grip of violence
Grows ever tighter
Until the meager remains of love
Trickle from my cold, hateful body
I love the way time
And the elements enhance
Its beauty
Its value
Of a battle
And a castle
Shrouded in grey
But
For fires
Raging
And my loved one
There
Life threatened