Of thunder of spring over distant mountains
He who was living is now dead
We who were living are now dying
With a little patience.
–T. S. Eliot, “What the Thunder Said”
by T. A. Fry
Pray tell, who lured whom with their siren song?
Love hunters circling each other, as fair prey,
With broad-heads sharpened, our longbows drawn,
Stalking cherished game to dress, then slay.
The truth? I walked willingly to your sight.
Cross-hairs plain upon my breast. One last chance
to taste my blood and die, as is my right,
in pursuit of raucous love and romance.
Where from here; pinnacle or whipping post?
Our Love a cause and cure of fatal wounds.
A life restoring poison for a final toast.
“Fare well my love. Farewell. I’ll come home soon.
To release the hounds to bound and bay your scent.
For love is nothing if not evanescent.”
I wrote this sonnet a number of years ago, when my Mother was still alive. I wrote it on a lazy Saturday and read it to her after we had gone to church the next day. She listened and smiled and said, “read me the last three lines again.” My Mother had sung a siren song a few times over her years and the memory of it was welcome on that day in her 80’s.
The challenge of love is what to do with it when the rest of life crowds in and overwhelms. Love can be the last bastion, the final straw and brilliantly unsuitable – all rolled into one juju bean, kind of like the Moody Blues for those of us who listened to AM radio in the 1970’s.
Not Anyone Who Says
by Mary Oliver
Not anyone who says, “I’m going to be
careful and smart in matters of love,”
who says, “I’m going to choose slowly,”
but only those lovers who didn’t choose at all
but were, as it were, chosen
by something invisible and powerful and uncontrollable
and beautiful and possibly even
only those know what I’m talking about
in this talking about love.
© T. A. Fry and Fourteenlines, 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to T. A. Fry and Fourteenlines with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.