A Lover’s Death
Love is light,
a lifting of the heart
and of the spirit
until it binds
my heavy soul
in a contract
called commitment.
How can I lament
the deals I've made
while drunk and dancing?
It's likely,
without experiencing
a taste of the real thing,
I'd never have glimpsed,
my own humble likeness
in the countenance
of God.
My fate is sealed.
I'll die a lover's death.
“The lover knows much more about absolute good and universal beauty than any logician or theologian, unless the latter, too, be lovers in disguise.”
This poem was originally shared as part of Brian’s Daily Poems on August 6, 2020.
©Brian Mueller - All rights reserved.
