Outpouring: James Adamson

To the Glory of God
To Gwyneth

 

Love offers no obstacle for its truth to be known
running toward each other for miles away is only an opportunity.
To know our face in a mirror.
No greater truth is known about your love
if you climb a mountain.
Yet you are known more truly.
We spill forth and our love is an outpouring..
Our effort to be who we are is important
With a cringe at the one you love we concern ourselves
with our sociability.
Love over what it is to us is part of who we are
The straitjacket is a feat of personal quality to escape.
The poem, the novel, the song, the painting.
The brain damage that diminish not.
Illness, poverty, wretchedness, our glory.
They do not run like horses.
The heart beats.
our eyes flicker.
The love is trampled by flowers, butterflies and birds.
Trees find birds honey milk.
The planet revolves as does our character.
A flood flows over us deeply.
All creation drinks it in.
Our greater truths are nourished.
Reason refines focuses strengthens.
Who we are is happier, freer, more beautiful, humourous.
Irony, the sense of comparison grows
dynamic life leaves behind deficiency as a concern.
The better life becomes fallen into the hand.
While lonely souls struggle.
The load is eased and the burden lightened.
The path and the yolk of buckets.
waters the flowers because of the hole in them.
Is who we are that our independence shines
when we need to give it to another.
If love is corralled and controlled over instinct
beautiful horses become free.
The fences fall or some equestrian show of leaps begins.
If we struggle and tribulation comes upon us
we read the bible still more.
The effort becomes the thing
the race is what we honor.
We will get there again and the world will see an embrace.
We are not just here for ourselves but we have learned
as if to breathe the scent of a rose.
It is all of us we care for
if and when
the garden grows.