A Diet of Thistles
Conrad T. Feder
(poems, English)
the following poem is not to be found
in my book:
We cannot see the light
we cannot see the light
through the smoke of words.
the fire of longing
spreads ashes in the wind.
the pain of being one,
we feel separate from the stars.
as experience is
the root of thought,
the brain disturbs the
rhythms of the heart.
the tides of time
take us here and there.
and only the water
of true tears
will clear the soot
and only love
can show us a way
through the stonefields
of our blind deserts
and the mines of doubt.
This is not romantic AND it is.
The salvation is not in to be loved,
but in to love, oneself, life, death, and
another.
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