Loamy wealth of love

We think of love
Love received and given
As some sort of luxury or windfall
To fall into or out of
but love
Love received and love given
is a bank account of loamy wealth,
Of strength and vulnerabilities,
Of small lessons in compassion
Of roots turning the deep darkness to growing shoots
Love is the breaths we have breathed ... suspended
and when the dark winds buffet, the account  holds one steady
Keeps the sustenance flowing upward
Keeps us rooted
Keeps us from bowing to the direction of random gusts.
Without love accumulated, tended, nurtured, folded deep
We ride the winds of anguished directionless
Drying out and loosing structure
And we pass nothing onward.

Mouth Foam Flotsam

Tossing on the storm sea
Flung like flotsam foaming
Shrieking in the galing winds
Drowned sea weed hair sweeping
The white phosphored wave tops.

And drowning, pulled down
drifting through black waters
Alone and oh so silent waters

Then flung up and out again to rage.
These are the days
These are the nights.

Just to get started ...."For now we see, as through a glass darkly"

Muted sight through darkened glass
Filtered, unclear, blurred  illusion.
But through darkened glass,
seeing not only beyond
but beyond tinged within reflected.
To see through a glass darkly
Is to see a partial reflection of oneself
And so, what is beyond the glass
What needs the seeing
Is muted, unclear, filtered, blurred, illusionary
and a reflection of the self
darkly.