Studios of Love

When our human Soul breaks through --
Into lyrics, voice and tunes;
All make united love, come true.

All live together in a room
Next to human being's oldest loom;

One part of Human Soul, is reconceived
Through a passageway to rebirth, thus received!

Spring again our lovings so old!
All occuring in sound-hearing-speech room--
Recording studio of Soul.

Enter, then, all studios of old:
Babe, through breast and eye, is told;
Of Parents-children mealtime lovings,

Working, playing, ever bequeathing :
Family-love-community foreseeing.

Enter all studio life-flows.
In Human watersheds, Earthly-Humans know

That our replenishments of Love
Make human soul and grace still flow.



2012 All rights reserved

Literature as Epitaph for Humanity

Literature seeps, reaches our immortal,
species' Seed-sprouts; tapping our primordial.

Voice shuns Desire's cold, written speech--
Words painting bright, our species waning bleak;

Voice tastes not, the news'  conversations:
Tonque licks, the olds'  tribe-relations.

Soul sighs! Timed-strewn, voice-pearls form.
Through mind-heart will, our species reborn

Human being's scrawled, Earth-speech?  
Epitaph for Soul, long breached.



2012 All rights reserved