The Circle Love Poem

The Circle Love Poem!

Is there anything better than selling figs,
to the fig seller?
That’s how this is.
Making a profit is not why we’re here,
nor pleasure, nor even joy.
When someone
is a goldsmith, wherever he goes, he asks
for the goldsmith.
The clouds build with
what we share.
Wheat stays wheat right
through the threshing.
How just do you
feel when you load a lame donkey?
The world has some share in this cup.
That’s how it turns green.
Let the lean
and wounded be revived in your garden.
How would the soul feel in the beloved’s
Fish washed free and clean of fear.
You drive us away, but we return like pet
Ten nights becoming dawn flow
in us as a new kind of waking.
Osmond joins the circle! We will say
the poem again so he can play.
There is
no end to anything round

The Circle Love Poem

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