9. (Love) Poem #9 (Myshkin, 2020) · quatrains

Fall, water… Waterfall... Hug her, tree… Treehugger... Ache, heart... Heartache... Seed, earth... Earthseed... Alea iacta est! The letter’s sent Wherein I persevere and half repent For rushing Love, and for my fool’s consent To cancel Hope and trample our Ascent. I love God, Nature, Anna and my Soul. Three of the four are clear. But what’s her role? First her, then us. Protect and serve, my goal. We’d live our Art. We’d heal our Wildness whole. Is there love potion in this Poem Number Nine? My Wolf would snap her up and make her Mine! But what King wants a Queen without a spine? I’ll write. I’ll dance my song. The choice is Thine.