If Pure Love is the Great God
If the Great God is Pure Love
If all that truly Is is
an infinitely selfless joyful huzzah-overflowing
Accepting Delighting-In Caring Nurturing Giving
than how can life be the way it seems to be
The only explanation I can find
is that there must be so many twistings
dare we say
of Pure Love.
Why would Pure Love allow Itself
to be manipulated like that?
Used to create so many moments of awfulness,
of cruelty crime suffering breaking boiling blistering cramping shoving-down-in-the-cold-dirt?
Is that price of existence?
For Pure Love is all there Is,
but Pure Love
has no form
nor even thoughts and feelings beyond an all-knowing, in-all-timespaces eternally present kind delight —
a kind of giggle that is boundless joy in boundless creating, giving, animating, uplifting, knowing, cherishing.’
does not exist —
at least not in the way we need to exist in order to exist as creatures —
as little moving outposts of watching of feeling of perceiving of guessing of interacting of reaching and dancing.
But the old argument remains,
why so much evil?,
so much cruelty?
so much victory
for rotten resolve
and wicked delight?
Or doesn’t Pure Love
see it that way?
Maybe Pure Love
is so Great
and so Real,
whereas particular existences
are so tiny illusionary fleeting
we’re all really winning
when all is said and done?
I reach for you, my darling one
to love and cherish, ere life is done
But you must moan and groan and whisper
what I need to hear, hold dear, kiss-for.
And so I make a twisting and a turning
of the Love ever bright and burning
that holds you without you performing
any kind of show or otherwise deforming
the innocence of your friendly heart.
And then we wrestle our passions out
through to each other’s center lines
until children fall shouting out
And I am their’s and they are mine
And so again I twist the Love
that in equal joy in all abides
until it seems to want to shove
all but my little home aside.
But what oh what would you have me to do?
For I’ve seen us love only God and forget
our homes and families
fblowing up men and women on their way to work and children on their school busses
for the glory
of a vaguely arching strangely sprawling awfully contorting vengeance
called God Love Virtue — Peace, even.
And I’ve seen us call love and/or Love out as shams
and proceed to grind ourselves and others into dust
on the wheels of ambitions dreams schemes hugs grabs systems waterfalls
that we pretend
that we can Love
Copyright: AM Watson