{"id":1189,"date":"2022-11-16T19:00:22","date_gmt":"2022-11-17T00:00:22","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pensivejournal.com\/?p=1189"},"modified":"2022-11-15T22:53:32","modified_gmt":"2022-11-16T03:53:32","slug":"aphorisms-on-the-origins-of-love","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/pensivejournal.com\/poetry\/aphorisms-on-the-origins-of-love\/","title":{"rendered":"Aphorisms on the Origins of Love"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 For the stranded refugees <\/span><\/em>
\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 of Nogales, Sonora<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n
Ours is a wet planet, red in tooth and claw.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
Here, we came before the science of names.<\/span><\/div>\n

Turn where we may, windows of souls
glow from the dawn of longing.<\/span><\/div>\n

We made homes on a plain of river oxbows,
seat of sorcery for slow childhoods,<\/span><\/div>\n

shadows of mountain, nooks of cliff,
table-land strewn with every geology,<\/span><\/div>\n

where swans\u2019 wings defy gravity in rampant play
over marsh dusted with down, cradled in clay.<\/span><\/div>\n

In years of daylong
mornings, newborn light
in a striking of
blue glass on wooden ledges,
rising hoodoo-spindles
born of caressing wind,
ages of lesser heartache
passed like our chosen pain.<\/span><\/div>\n

Horizons span the mind\u2019s canvas,
we rose to stake this claim.144<\/span>
Each child knows we loved<\/span>
in every lifetime,<\/span>
perhaps the only way <\/span>
love could crack a pupa <\/span>
of sullen instinct \u2014<\/span>
fully, in a single beam,<\/span>
whomsoever the other <\/span>
may have been<\/span>
\u2014 brows, mouth, glance,<\/span>
immortal words<\/span>
or chance anecdote,<\/span>
through lost epochs, <\/span>
or winged moments.<\/span><\/div>\n

Off we set on journeys, before slow-walkers noticed.<\/span>
Quick or endless, none can promise.<\/span><\/div>\n

Who among us could get far alone?<\/span>
What has our species, single-minded, yet initiated?<\/span><\/div>\n

Can we stride upright, an unseen path, at unique points in time? <\/span>
Have we translated passions into a true design?<\/span><\/div>\n

Yet on every tilth, a way runs out before us<\/span>
as mesas, eye-dry, proffer laden riches.<\/span><\/div>\n

This is the riddle<\/span>
wrapped in song<\/span>
we learned<\/span>
not to try <\/span>
too hard to solve. <\/span>
For don\u2019t we all,<\/span>
one day pause,<\/span>
parched and lonesome,<\/span>
footsore, loathsome,<\/span>
at a dusty crossroads,<\/span>
a rocky ford, <\/span>
or by the ruin<\/span>
of some mythic church?<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
And if our days <\/span>
are anywhere recorded,<\/span>
that book must affirm<\/span>
in plainest statement<\/span>
that we spawned <\/span>
what bears the name <\/span>
of love<\/span>
in spite of onslaught,<\/span>
drought and twister, <\/span>
migration and disaster,<\/span>
in spite of mob rule <\/span>
that scatters every sect,<\/span>
shatters every tool,<\/span>
spreads the epidemic <\/span>
of fresh obsession,<\/span>
fever, travesty,<\/span>
and puts the lie<\/span>
to kinder history.<\/span><\/div>\n

So we loved us, <\/span>
whensoever, <\/span>
as at this moment<\/span>
water fills its many forms<\/span>
and seeks its every level.<\/span><\/div>\n

How can it be more or less than what is fated,<\/span>
matter or energy, within our knowing, never once negated?<\/span><\/div>\n

If two or more may be annealed as one,<\/span>
what miracles await, yet to be done?<\/span><\/div>\n

Across these earthly plains and shining spaces, <\/span>
lush freshets and ebbing tides,<\/span><\/div>\n

wise persons seek it still:<\/span>
our deity of many faces.<\/span><\/div>\n
\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/canvas><\/p>\n
145<\/span>
And if our days <\/span>
are anywhere recorded,<\/span>
that book must affirm<\/span>
in plainest statement<\/span>
that we spawned <\/span>
what bears the name <\/span>
of love<\/span>
in spite of onslaught,<\/span>
drought and twister, <\/span>
migration and disaster,<\/span>
in spite of mob rule <\/span>
that scatters every sect,<\/span>
shatters every tool,<\/span>
spreads the epidemic <\/span>
of fresh obsession,<\/span>
fever, travesty,<\/span>
and puts the lie<\/span>
to kinder history.<\/span>
So we loved us, <\/span>
whensoever, <\/span>
as at this moment<\/span>
water fills its many forms<\/span>
and seeks its every level. <\/span>
How can it be more or less than what is fated,<\/span>
matter or energy, within our knowing, never once negated?<\/span>
If two or more may be annealed as one,<\/span>
what miracles await, yet to be done?<\/span>
Across these earthly plains and shining spaces, <\/span>
lush freshets and ebbing tides, <\/span>
wise persons seek it still:<\/span>
our deity of many faces<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 For the stranded refugees \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 of Nogales, Sonora Ours is a wet planet, red in tooth and claw. Here, we came before the science of names. Turn where we may, windows of souls glow from the dawn of longing. We made homes on a plain of…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":290,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"issue":[11],"coauthors":[247],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nAphorisms on the Origins of Love | Pensive Journal<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/pensivejournal.com\/poetry\/aphorisms-on-the-origins-of-love\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Aphorisms on the Origins of Love | Pensive Journal\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 For the stranded refugees \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 of Nogales, Sonora Ours is a wet planet, red in tooth and claw. 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