The Longing of Love

How can I plant flowers
in a garden full of weeds?

And even if they grow

how can I see them?

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Once again I'm reminded

that feeling this breath of life

is my first joy: whatever else I seek

cannot compare to this

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I witness the aqua-blue of ocean

against the cerulean-blue of sky

they touch each other

with fond appreciation

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In the aftermath of confusion

clarity is sacred.

In the midst of a tempest

the sun brings calm.

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Cold sea water, all of me

immersed in salt and foam.

Autumn touches the morning light

and I feel refreshed, reborn.

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The immovable in me needs change

each day is ripe for gathering

The heart thrives by flaming

the fire for the longing of love.

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