Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

the hand that reaches across oceans
does not sing a siren's lullaby
does not churn the sea to give birth,
for love makes no demands and spares
neither blossom nor rind
but feeds the magnetic heart
with the scent of ripened fruit,
bearing memory and unyielding pleasure
like a lotus that unfolds,
petal to petal,

only the wisest owl takes life into
consideration, leaves his perch and
flies away, homeless for the sky.

circular feeling reading this poem (just as if it was dropped by the sky somehow), love it! gracias for sharing it!