Love ~ 1972

To You
I offer
my cup
of fiery crystal
and frivolous gold
in silence
and with momentous sublimity
I enact
my love-gift:
I pour
the sanguine-coloured
mystique of wine
tasted
in attendance
with the
awakening
of our dream.
I touch
Your glass
in absentia
and propound
a night
of one thousand dreams,
venture into
a demesne
of loving;
I drink
the cold-warm
intoxication
and mellow
into the union,
forever lost
in its somnolence.

Dispassionately alone,
the blatant truth
envelops me:
Had I perceived
the sweet nectar of Paradise
and
never realized You?
Was perfection
ours for a moment's lifetime,
loosing millenia to ourselves?

I drink to you, Love,
Your memories and shadows,
within Your tortuous drink
the truth decries Truth.

The chalice
is emptied,
lonely drops of
blood-red liquid
dance inside as
in final recollection
Your face of Love
mirrored in my bitter cup,
And I ached to possess
Your visage for only a moment
longer,
my tears,
flowing warm and gentle,
deprived my illusion of You.

I salute You,
Love,
with outstretched hand,
reaching,
I clasp
Your cup,
and crush
Your victory.


~A