Mad Love

We are the mirror as well as the face in it.
We are tasting the taste this minute
of eternity. We are pain
and what cures pain, both. We are
the sweet, cold water and the jar that pours.


Rumi


And the snow poured down in a Seattle
blizzard. Imagine that. But the phone lines
didn't go down so there was connection
aplenty that trickled across the line from ocean
to ocean, word to word, heart to heart, body 
to longing body. Now to sleep with the voice of
mad love ringing in my ears with the perpetual 
sweetness of it's song.