memo [2004]

'...you are a military mother of gigantic proportions

waging wars against the hearts of all who choose to speak not only against you, but out of turn

when you awake in a bath of orange peel and honey

you dismiss it’s significance

those things have always happened to you

your name is written somewhere on a spine

up high, just shy of the periphery of candlelight

your pages unopened for years

though your ideas and even a few direct quotes surface regularly in conversation – sometimes accompanying vulgarities, but most often whispered by feeble mouths who barely know what they speak of

but never fear for your memory

for your fairy lights still hang between the pupils and retinas of the few who hold true to your possibility

the minstrels ears are still tuned to the note you intone from on high

singing the many heart strings you have played through all time

perhaps you too have become cynical in your old age

but remember….you are 'love'

and we are listening...'