A glimmer of love in the darkest heart
Of the violent man who has never been loved
or has received it but not recognised it
Violent, always with the wounded hearts
The pain, a shadow in pitch dark
That comes from
not believing in the love
Of sieving out only the wrongs
and blinding out the tenderness
What human fatality is this?
That walls us up from the obvious love
of the breath that goes in and out
the heart that beats incessantly
the grain that merges with our flesh
the thought that flickers in our mind
We do none of it
And yet we think; no, we believe
That we do all of it
And this is the human predicament
that blinds us
from the obvious love
