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Paul Meier reading
Love Is
by Alan Harris
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Sunlight twinkles yellow off the neighbor's tree leaves, stirred by a sibilant breeze. All is well. The sky is empty, empty, empty, and azure. Do not worry. The rose window decal on our east window glows with what glass and plastic know of love-- crimson, aqua, yellow, and amethyst, concentric in twelves. It is all right. Your eyes shine behind mine, energizing my thoughts, giving off a gentle voltage. Fret not. You are more than you are. You are the prism, the white light, the rainbow, and more. Notice your depth sometime as you awaken from sleep, and rest assured that depth never dies. Serenity, a smooth current of calmness, surrounds. Permeates. Is. Is. Is. It is too silly now to say what love is, or that I love you. Words trouble the serenity. Definitions becloud the sky. Tremulant leaves twinkle sunlight. The sky is empty, pure. The rose window glows with color. Your eyes, your deep eyes-- enough. |
From the book Splashes and Breezes (1988)
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(Paul Meier)
(Alan Harris)
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