Beyond Golgatha

Once I said to the great Force:

“Great Force,

this marvelous, numinous, unmeasurable tide-wave

surging so sweetly and painful in lung and heart

do we not have this in common?”

And he said:

“Oh how I know what you mean...

...and what about this urging lust in the halls of nostrils

searching to smell everything that is out there?

...and this curious want in your spiraling auricles

to listen to all this music the world makes?”

And I cried:

“Yes, oh yes and...

...all this tickling in foot-soles and finger-tips

burning to touch and feel everything?

And this savior-insatiate tongue, eager to taste

all the flavor that is blooming out of the earth?”

And he replied enthused:

“Hmm...and then this funny sensitivity around the lips

so easily titillated and still so hungry to kiss

all of creation in wild passion?”

I was aroused and smiled sheepishly

And she became mild, sighing:

“The crosses have been carried to Golgatha already dear!

Two arms free now, one left, one right

so...what about embracing?”