E-human

By Gub (15th of July) 

We can’t trade  happiness 

Nor purchase time 

Love is the only measure of  

Sanity 

Yet to define it

You need a sharp quill

To  draw something so soft, 

From such an abstract 

Mire of ego, need, 

And counterfeit reasoning

Love isn’t pure, 

It’s complex.

A molecular chemistry

That can poison, or save, 

Like a serpents venom. 

unique in its efficacy, 

On each one

Of us 

What we gift

What we take 

Is distinct.

This  precision in DNA 

Ensures 

No duplication in distribution 

Nor exchange 

Rilke’s sharing of 

‘Protected solitude’ 

Or Keats’ ‘selfish love

Which cannot breath’ 

IS the difference 

 

The echo of my call

In the darkness

The owl’s cant, or is it a

Nightingale or a jay?

What you reply in song

And what notes you choose 

Divides and unites

No love is the same

 

It is forever so

No single day 

comes again.