The rosy plans that couples make
on the rose day of February
are everyone’s ubiquity:
the bites on radio, TV
and intercepts on the Internet.
As if, of course, we’re all couples
burning in passion. Or learning together
in the fold. Or trepidation on the first
venture to enter the life of love.
But how does one—alone and missed
by the missiles of dense, desiring storms—
stand? That solo elopes
to the vast welcome of solitude
when deep within you find that single
multitude of all the world’s
heart, each cord vibrant in chord
with all the others. Then, you bear
the love that oceans us and ten-
derly is intimate with all
our bluffs and beaches, copses, meadows
and rolling hills, even mountains
along our longing shores . . . fulfilled
with all. Embraced, in all of one.