Primordial Poem by Lonnie Hicks

Love is throwing your heart in the burning fire
and being willing to see it come back a frozen hulk;

and doing it again
time after time.

Love requires that we set fire
to our brain,
and watch it burn
all in Love's Name
and Passion's Call.

Love is heat;
Love is fire
and we
are Mashmellows
of the Flame.

Love is time lost.
Who can remember
how long
the Loving Night?

Love seethes
with searing heat
because once lit
flames surge
and take away
our oxygen;
and we
swoon in the Euphoria.

Love is Yearning's Call
peeking from behind
the Banyon Tree;
Love's sight
peering between
the leafy leaves
fixing on figure and form
and then is lost
in a single lover's returned glance;
then
both fall down
to Soul's Depth;
most times
never to return
from that
Landscape Primordial.
Why?
Simple.
One does not interrogate The Flame
One does not expect explanations of Fire.
One does not await memos from the Heat.

Forces of Nature exist within themselves
and we are the Willing Slaves
which obey and cannot resist.

Extinguish the flame, ban the heat
and we are merely hulks
in the vestibule of existence
feeding but without life,
seeing but without sight
breathing but without heart.
Ahh
Would we have all of this any
other way?
We are always, its seems
in the cold and damp
willing to re-light the fire
feel the heat
even if there is pain.