In the circumstance of moving life
things break and need repair
and all that went to fuel it up
demands replenishment.
Then there’s the you and me
so well entwined therein
with no fix-it man in sight
and no pipeline to sustenance.
There’s no hand to hold or lift-me-up,
no shoulder or a “yes, I know”,
and no touch to still the tingle
that reverberates within.
It’s called in modern parlance
the land of “have-me-not”
where love in form does nothing,
not even feeds the feel.
But in that land there once were hills
that slowly, slowly, grew to be
large stand-alone mountains
imposing in their majesty.
Mountains ring the place I’m at
and how like love to simply be
above the circumstance of life
yet there for me to see!
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