Love Without Understanding

Love has enough life
breathed into it
to outlive us all
still, some kill their days
 trying to catch up to its infinite age
only to die sore and tired

some spend their long moments alone,
 in frozen fear of something so immortal
never finding the worthiness
 to embrace the heat

others stretch their minds
attempting to wrap themselves
completely around its obese complexity
until their thoughts
 no longer fit their own destiny

Then there are those that see it as a recipe
a strict list of ingredients to set out on the table
when the cravings call to have it over for supper


I want to throw in spices on a whim
never bake at the same temperature
and cook  again and again
even though it may sometimes burn


I don't want to race to chase its years
and lose track of my own time

I don't believe that it's so heavenly blue
 that its light
 will turn my earthly,
 green life to dust

I don't want to find it
loudly sparking up the sky.
In the quiet hours beside me
is when I hear it best

I don't want to figure out
what it's all about,
how it was made,
 or what it's made of...

Recognizing its touch
 is more than enough
to know it was made for me