Is love merely a meeting between two?

Is love merely a making?

Is love merely a making tercets out of two?

The temple was built with the clay of many

spirits and pains and stands to this very day.

Brno, the 5th of May. Heavy rain pouring.

Men and women take shelter in bars,

two birds take shelter under the cathedral;

we built these stones to shelter us from the sky.

What are we rambling !about under those

bars under those cathedrals

while my love is sleeping near me?— I can hear

her heartbeat through the walls; the sun

creeps in at times but I don’t mind.

The whole light of the day rests on

her palm, open to my direction.

Is love merely a meeting between two?

Is love merely a making?

Is love merely a making tercets out of two?

Light was always hidden by the sun

until you showed me how to hold it,

until you showed me how to mould it;

behind these structures raised to safe,

I was a stranger until I found my home in you.

Before, I would lull myself to sleep with such dark visions:

In me there is something upon which not even wraiths

would feed. Yet how could I keep silent about this dancing body

now that I see joy on the outline of a palm tree,

on the half-smile of some careless child,

in the deep hiss of oceanic memory, where

a moment of bliss waves upon the shore?

The temple was built with the clay of many

long and weary days, hours of sunlight, and of rain.

We watched the sunrise paint the night

in four bright shades of grey, a single and firm

glimpse into a larger and undying nature.

Then the birds whirring and the sea chirping became

such a droning and convoluted matter that we surrendered

our interest and turned to each other. And felt shy of shame

for we built these stones to rise up to the sky.

There’s no such thing that always shines but love’s

what taught me to thrive, dwell, and foster in light.

(From Poems. 2016-2018)