The necessitarian would argue

For an object of attention

To justify


He would say

A writing would do no good

Only being penned

And not read.

And a fruit tree is nothing


A hungry mouth

To be fed.

"I am merely the object

Of its enjoyment.

The reason

It thrives."


I daresay it blossoms

Because it is given awesome breath;

An absolute justice

To be alive.

This is not my voice,

But the will of Reason;

Mangos are bunched up in trees

And fall one by one

Into piles if nobody harvests.

The plummeting is

Completely regardless.

Where more is this valid

Than in true lovers' eyes?

          "We love just to be loved"

Is a myth

Exponentially tried.

Love, in its purest form

Reciprocates itself:

The giver the receiver

Of the openness he's dealt.

Note that light

Does not depend

On darkness

To be considered light.

No, no, I urge you

To regard it

In its purest might:

          In the blackness of night

          Light is perfectly abundant

          If you close your eyes.

          Disengage the tangible,

          The sensory association

          On which we unfairly rely.

Good is inconsequential.

You can argue that Evil

Makes you see

Holiness as preferential.

But we are not accurate measuring sticks:

          Just because we cannot smell the food

          Doesn't mean it isn't cooking.

          We're just overlooking the essentials.

In this comparative fashion

We are only backtracking to God,

And that never works.

Stepping away from the wrong

Is not the same

As chasing clear goals of the good.

          Backpeddling is blind

          And can stray you in any direction.

Love is tiny

When misunderstood.

A wife says, when asked

Of her mate:

          "He does not beat me,

           Lie, or cheat, or treat me

           With scorn or deceit."


Another says,

          "He is an essence of me

           that my soul perpetually

           partakes of.

           I will not count the worries

           He doesn't instill."


God bless.

I don't align with Him

For fear of Hell's burn

But rather the yearn

For Heaven's zest.

The rest

Is irrelevant

At best.

View grahf's Full Portfolio