The Greatest Love

Nothing exists but you and I/ And if we two be not/ Then God is no more God/ And down must fall the sky

- Angelus Silesius

The demons sought to dispose of your sorry heart

Still being precious, they put it up for auction

Brittle for being broken, it didn't transport well

Sorcerers, the world over, scrambled for the pieces

They knew I would come looking for you

Hearing rustling in the wind of our great love

Relying heavily on the degree of dispersion

As further discouragement to an aggrieved heart

It became the athletic tape holding tendons together

Keeping sternum and spine upright in purpose

Like the rod of Moses in hand, not on the ground

And the voice without words offering direction

The sweat of my brow condensated into clouds

With the downpour, a portent of an unwelcome arrival

Heard my resolute footfall on the stairs of the world

Turned to Vulcan for reinforcement to temper my will

Pieces of him found in glass cases within red rooms

Indecent displays of wealth, conquests and spoils

Ordering the sand in the glass back to the sea

The reflective surface disappeared with its allure

Then there were impenetrable cryptographic safes 

Pythagoras and Aryabhata took back their inventions 

The primes were gone and so were their music

Only sound heard is the click and creaking of the door

One occasion boasted of a three-headed guard dog

Descendant of Fluffy with bone crushing jaws

The music returned in the form of flutes playing

Lulling the dogs to sleep, putting jaws out of service

They speak of a work ethic labouring for a few pennies

This labour of love is my magnum opus in the oeuvre

The work that speaks for itself in itself against all that has

Sought and sometimes succeeded to hurt me in my heaven

Taking on a new name, inaugurated as The Greatest Love

My sermon on the mount, ministering to the hearts of all 

Men by redeeming this one as though it were the only one 

This heart precious beyond estimation broken on a rock

Imbokodo: When the strength and might of a woman 

Parallels the abject humiliation of a good man trying 

I'll stand by you, even in hand-cutting smithereens

Caloused hand not heart, I'll hold you ever so close

Reduced to the grains of dust from whence you came

With drops of water, I'll thicken and substantiate you

Offer you back a rib to refashion yourself out of and a

Loving word cleaning out the desert sands from your ears