Love and the Maladies of Time.

Mann, Chris

Love and the Maladies of Time

   You'd think that time which dims
   then seals off grief
   within the backward rush
   of each receding day
   and each fast disappearing year
   would let such grief decay.

   But no, it is not so, my love,
   it was and is not so.
   up from abandoned stony ground
   green aloes strive to grow.

   You'd think that time which fades
   a bruise, a wound
   within the forward rush
   of each new breath-blessed day
   and each new people-crowded year
   would heal such hurts away.

   But no, it is not so, my love,
   it was and is not so.
   Up from the mud of hidden streams
   white lilies strive to grow.

   Out of the depths of night
   old griefs, old hurts
   seethe back in disarray.
   I brood, I pray, I strain
   to make their acid wilderness
   life's nutrients again.

   But no, that won't last long, my love
   so kiss and pollen me.
   The green and white of ruinous time
   longs for the honey-bee.