What if 
Words became tears
And logic
Became a lozenge 
Dissolving on the tongue 
And we dispensed 
With the dry bones 
Of loveless ideas 
And gazed instead 
Into the eyes 
Of someone we love 

Finding there 
The letters of our name 
Disentangled 
From their sentence form  
And washed down our cheeks 
Like pebbles in a stream 
Banked 
Upon the slow curve 
Of the river’s turn. 

What was once 
In thought 
Is disassembled 
And then reconfigured 
In the writing works 
And calligraphies 
Of nature’s hand 
Upon land and water. 

What was once made 
From man’s disembodiment   
Is remade by God. 
Like the world now
Man is 
Written as the poem 
In flow,
No less beautiful 
Than the fine grains 
Of graded sand 
Made into the shapes 
Of rounds 
And eclipses 
As if the loving moon too
Was caught in that spell
And no less 
Intricately connected.