Alone at Dawn
a musing – faucon
There are memories most pervasive
of thoughts beyond the lost words endured
in seeking truths as foundations
for my yearning, churning youth.
Then there are phrases caught forever
in the web of my patterned constructs
that guide the search for balance
on the fulcrum of my soul.
Two such glimmers of gifted wisdom
seem to be in conflict of intent,
and I sense that life’s mysteries
are found in such discordance.
“To love any woman profoundly,
you must love all women a little!”
“If I am to see love in everyone,
I must first embrace love of one alone!”
How can both thoughts be true in wonder,
if one must listen to mind and heart
to forge a plan of human touch
and echoed painless passion?
Within Phinominal Expansion
one might project:
“The relationship of the love of one
to the love of every man,
is as the ratio of the greater part
to all of love imagined”
Yet this universality
doesn’t direct which should be the greater;
nor if by expanding all love
the distinction may dissolve.
A mystic might cleave this Gordian Knot
by surrendering to Divine love first;
and then approach each new stranger
as both ‘the one’ and ‘of all’.
A pensive crone or wizard might allow
that ‘to love oneself’ is paramount –
with all love flowing naturally
from knowing love by living.
But, as a poet with a sense of awe,
I might leave such mysteries alone;
and just craft a lens and mirror
that thee might encounter love.