A poem on waking up to the force of love.

When everything is the Beloved,
you will find
something different:
a shift subtle but tectonic.
The entire daily conversation
presses you downward
more deeply
into reality
of present moment
by force of love.

Be flattened by this feeling
and see that even trees look different,
leaves shimmering like jewels in sunlight
a breeze lighting them up
eliciting a sparkle.

Some days,
this love is like laps of an ocean.
Others,
like soft ripple of lake
or water smoothing stone.
There are ebbs and flows.

All this is force of love,
rendering the open one overcome.
And still: there are holes —
like moon pulling tides
not emptiness to be filled
instead,
the space generated
inside by eternity
doing its slow work of expansion.

✾