I pretended to not see it was really for me
And kindly asked if she knew of the past.
As she left me cold in the days of old
After all these years of manifold tears.
I knew it would be hard for love to restart
To dig up the grave where I buried it brave
And killed it complete to make my life sweet.
Without being invited as if it is frighted
And makes itself known quite out of its own
As the love we once shared in the times when we cared.
But I realised quite soon that there was still room
For love and compassion at the end of that session.
Still it bothers me so to move to and fro
As it never should be because we are free
To do what we wish with the mem’ry of a kiss.
In order to heal the way that we feel
with the thoughts which I store for an excursion once more
It won't be a shame to take part in that game
which is based on respect and the way we react
to love that comes round which can nowhere be found.
From the wounds that she found when her love ran aground
but to fail to try will let you ask why
You didn't just take the same old mistake
Or that it really felt good in the way that it should
Deliv’ring us from shame for the sake of the game
Still for me it is strange to love for a change
And not to know why I gave it a try.
In the strange way when fate appeared at my gate
To bring some respite and at last make things right
When we are anxious to know how things shouldn’t go
To relieve all of our pain for personal gain.
Of what was due because of what we went through
And all that we need is to be discrete
To sort out our fate before it’s too late.
Built on a pyre that can easily catch fire
and turn into hate when alas its too late.
Written by another poet or brother
Gibran is the man who stirred this fan
In case we doubt what love is about
I quote from his work which is not quite absurd:
and when his wings enfold you yield to him
though the sword hidden amongst his pinions may wound you
For even as love crown you, so shall he crucify you
Even as he is for your growth, so is he for your pruning
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun
so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness
He kneads you until you are pliant
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter. and weep, but not all of your tears.