stones and rocks

she thinks
i talk to God
and to myself
and truly

this is so,
it is as if
i am not there.
communication

is not communion
as long as it is
in words
but not in deeds,

not as long
as words and deeds
are translated
in thought and fear.

what is not felt
to be true,
cannot be true.

what is felt
to be true,
must not be true.

still, we feel,
and cannot
un-feel life
nor our death.

we are alone
and long to love
and to be loved,
there we are on the edge

and there is no
servile giant
who takes rocks
out of the way.

we have to bend down
humbly, not minding
whose stones these are:
this is the work of love.