Love works....

 

What works in the world? Love works,

love works and it works.
Love says Thank-you to the bus-driver and 'Morning at Reception.
Love sends home half its wages to Manila or Harare.
Love the meadow-spider carries her silk sack of eggs,

bigger than her own body, to the only possible bramble-leaf.
Love makes up packed lunches at midnight, love lays out clean clothes for Tuesday.
I rejoice in the workings of love in the world.
I rejoice in the working of love.

Love works the night-shift, love watches the grey rose of morning.
Love walks home to the clattering of milk-vans and wren-song.
Love empties commodes and empties commodes.
Love draws breath, love pauses, love doesn't say, I told you so.
Love draws water, love lays a fire.
Love carries water and carries water.
I rejoice in the workings of love in the world.
I rejoice in the working of love.

Love holds out a begging-bowl, love sits cross-legged at a tree-root.
(Love works in the world, love works.)
Love turns flung boulders to rose-petals, rose-petals.
Love says to Kisagotami, Fetch me a grain of mustard

from a house that's known no death: to Angulimala,

garlanded with bloody fingers, love says, Come, Bhikkhu.
Lové turns the wheel of the Dharma, love tells elephant jokes at midnight.
I rejoice in love's workings, as love rejoices.
I rejoice in the working of love.

 

Clair Mullineaux