Make Ourselves Anew

05 December 2025

https://poems.culturing.net/2025/12/make-ourselves-anew/

It was true, it was always true, there can be no doubt.
I have read the signs and await the fulfillment of prophecy.
Under the stars we have languished, waiting for light
that could penetrate the blackest canvas of night, and none came.
None came, for the canvas concealed all we are, blocking out
the inviting vibrations, the hidden music of the oscillating spheres,
no less sure for their oscillating, doubtless more wondrous
and summoning an energy no man can deny. If you choose,
you can hear them, and dance with the furious joy of one bound
to be free, bound by true power, rapt by the sun and moon.

--

In this laughter, I hear you, awake and filled hopeful
by something just out of reach, but in view. It is true,
and the first clue is always the best: there could be no resisting,
no saying no to the pull of a fated love for ones such as us.
But do not be afraid. I will love you with the love that you pour into me.
I can see over hills and dales the winding path that leads us home,
the path we must walk together if ever we will feel free,
for I think you also can see how the ground melts and pulses
in tune with the song of the spheres, under heaven,
but in a strange sense, a strange mood, a strange key.

--

You are not strange to me. I have eyes for no other.
The others lack eyes, and I will not share something they cannot return.
But I see you, I love you, I want you. These three
are the chorus that drowns out all else with perfected harmony,
the song of my soul lit on fire by the only possibility it ever desired:
to belong, here on earth, with you.

--

The answer was found before the question was understood,
and it always is so with matters of the heart. Let's start over,
recalling from the beginning what we learned in the end,
and make ourselves anew.