Not free, though not for any price,
does sky reach land and land stretch high
through trees and rocks, bamboo and stairs,
creating paths for deer, ostrich,
giraffe, eagles and us who walk,
burrow, maneuver, fly and race
to eat and drink and nest until
it’s time to rest.
The point is fueling spaceship earth
no matter how clichéd it sounds;
she lives inside, a Queen who nests
and needs our love opened to her.
Compared to this exchange, free love
is cheap imitation, fiction
on stage for entertaining those
who haven’t learned
There is no love that’s lost and dead
but blooms in other ways instead—
love stirs deep pools rich with tadpoles
and fish; love kisses open buds and seeds
and fronds and hands and hearts and deeds.
Love acts or brings chilled, stifled breath,
clogged arteries and clustered strife—
we offer love or end all life.
For my prompt
and April's poem # 27
Copyright © 2016 Susan L. Chast