Remember,in the onrush of love, when beating hearts sounded

Like a team of horses in the low relief cravings of Karnak rumbling

Behind the heart’s curtain and charging before our longing gaze.

How we stormed through the bowers of love, aware of each heartbeat

As did the springtime and all vacated places that felt the sound of

That annunciation with breathing clarity after an evening thunderstorm.

We ran ahead of our flowering for youth was our to spend; our urge to

Love was so powerful and its fruit was already there prepared as a banquet

Beyond the temptation to blossom and honey suckled our very being.

Skipping the flowering and arriving at the pure mystery of love by this

Force as if its fountain’s pipe drove our sap into the sweetest achievement.

This, you remember as I do for we still feel it in our chambered hearts.

It was mutually built up motion that sprung through all four seasons and

Condensed as a mist to fall upon us like dew; even now, to last into the

Innumerable brewing of all futures to be recycled into our beating hearts.

Who could divert the deluge of this origin or trace the tendrils of the inner

Events that led up to that precipitous onrush somewhere between river and

Rock that found such fertile ground for our hearts abundant over-reach.

That onrush gathered back into itself and became its own heightened example

In later years to fortify our heart’s flow as dried riverbeds seek underground

Chambers to course through and find its resting place in quieter lagoons.

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