Clinging
We cling to each other, with urgent gentleness,
As though there were only five millenniums of tomorrows to go
Before you and I, my affectionate Linda Joyce,
Say good-bye to one another's glowing faces and smiling eyes,
Raise our voices to the angels, in joyous, peaceful harmony,
And make way for our flown souls to return home,
To that place beyond the sky's farthest star, beyond infinite silence.
As though today might only come for the next perpetual eon or three,
We cling to each other, with desperate tenderness,
Not out of neediness or with a baby's primal dependence
On its mother comforting breast, for warm, sweet sustenance,
But for that steadfast affirmation of each other's love,
Which feels so pleasing, purifying, fulfilling, so sacred, holy, divine,
That not even death can sunder our cleaving hearts.
10/15/10
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