Your love has come
Like a warm, tropical storm
On a deserted beach at sunset.
Sinking rays slant gold on sand and skin
Shadows lengthen behind
To purple depths.
Rain, tumultuous and saturating penetrates to deep within.
Nothing to do but strip to nakedness
And arms wide out, embrace
Wet and wind.
Come my Love, and fill
My ever-thirsting cup.
2013
There are few friends on the Way to freedom; most people would rather endure comfortable bondage in the arms of the System in the wide valley far below than experience the danger liberty offers. There, on the narrow path on the mountain it just keeps getting narrower until we have ditched every burden that drags us back and spend more time crawling on our knees than we do walking.
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