Creation
Our love goes round and round
in perpetual and energetic circulation,
never stopping but increasing and accelerating,
like a true perpetuum mobile that ever goes on faster,
and yet we never tire of our love,
as if it constantly regenerated
like a Phoenix, in renewing restoration
and the more so for its self-consumtion,
as if wasting made you only richer.
Somehow we have reached some kind
of strange ideal love situation,
where we never can be rid of one another,
while at the same time we don't want to,
while our love increases for its practice
uniquely furthering creation
which we can't be held responsible for
although we sustain, uphold and further it
but only as an absolutely natural and obvious process,
which by analysis would seem perfectly miraculous
but which for us is only being true to what we are.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2010-09-27 at 13:11
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