It’s been said the way that we live, so we shall die
But why must we change when viewed from this eye?
This poem may seem quiet, reserved and mistakenly shy
Brave in some ways and loud as the sky
Though it never gives up, it’s not consumed with a try
It abides as it is, and loves with broad eye
When love lives as love there’s no need to say why
Suppose it’s all love, then how shall it die?
Image credit: Joshua Tree National Park at night (14 May 2018), Henrique Pinto.
Primitive Joe 
