Universal Love


We sit, looking out across the Bay of Fundy mud flats
pondering a future we did not invent.
We measure, by the uncanny parallax of four eyes joined,
the metaphysical flitting, chittering of a sparrow
in a scruffy remnant of willow,
clinging along the perimeter of life,
awaiting the onslaught of the tidal bore.
We contemplate, with one mind, time opening up:
a freshly laid egg, still warm
split into perfect halves
by a scalpel a single molecule in thickness,
expanding in weightlessness
to permeate, to create possibilities
unimaginably beyond the grasp of other lovers.
When we touch
(and we will touch in the most profound way
to soar, hurtle across the vastness of space-time
on the thrust of this desperate experiment)
our energies feed each other
a photon fountain, surging
traversing vast light-years in a single instant
coursing through the veins of the unified field
to seek out, to invite discovery
by an intelligence vast enough
inclusive, intrusive, penetrating enough
to pare away, once again, our randomness.
Genesis?
Ark?

A supplication.
A telegram home to celestial ancestors:
(In this, the final hour of human evolution,
we sit on the shore,
the rough grasses and sand exciting our shared skin,
our moist touch at the water's shifting boundary
probing, precursing the tidal bore,
clinging as the first single molecule lets go
effervescing immeasurable energy.)

We are running out of time (stop)
Please send help....


© Gary Eikenberry