The Hunt

Key to his hunt, we chased through forests and across plains.

While useful, I was beloved.

The story is ancient...

I could speak of Love as if it had never before been discovered...

For to fall in love is to walk through a Golden Doorway

To see sights that were once listless and dull

Glow with Life.

To feel a Fire only known by those

New creatures at the next level of evolution...

Yet the story is ancient...

In every culture, there is the tale of a fabulous Creature

That disappears in forests,

And a Young Man hunts with an Aimless arrow, or spear, ...

A bird is then wounded -

Or a deer, wounded -

Or A tiger, shot with arrow and wounded -

And as he runs to wear he shot the creature,

Instead, there lies a woman...

And I lay there, my heart ripped open.

The Desperation!

The ability to suddenly forsake all earlier convictions -

To see now the meaninglessness of life's little demands -

To let go of physical need and cast off material comforts -

To be sick with Love, to shed a third, seventh, or ninth skin -

To awaken the Sleeper -

The creature within that rages each night

Separated from its glowing, raging source of life -

To love as such, to be sick with Love,

Its black clouds gripping the hills of the high deserts

Like a dragon breathing smoke and fire -

Some seek only this

And fall to a living death when it collapses.

Or is this is the intention?