We, unaccustomed to courage |
| exiles
from delight |
| live
coiled in shells of loneliness |
| until
love leaves its high holy temple |
| and
comes into our sight |
| to
liberate us into life. |
|
|
| Love arrives |
|
| and
in its train come ecstasies |
| old
memories of pleasure |
| ancient
histories of pain. |
| Yet
if we are bold, |
| love
strikes away the chains of fear |
| from
our souls. |
|
|
| We
are weaned from our timidity |
| In
the flush of love's light |
| we
dare be brave |
| And
suddenly we see |
| that
love costs all we are |
| and
will ever be. |
| Yet
it is only love |
which
sets us free.
|
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