A tying thread

I’m on cloud nine.

So much in love
I could tie
an ocean with
a thin thread
and gift it to
the lifeless sky
despicable, dry.

I could pull out
a mountain like
a flower,
take out a flower
that rose from the
bombed earth,
shower them onto
the vast blank
the void witness
that since long drank
all the waters
from the rivers
turned them into
nothingness.

Love! Love! Love!
If you're looking for love
you cannot see
take it from me for free,

Where are you?
The truant child
gone into a hiding.
Come back you shy
infant, your smell
your smile, your
innocence disappeared
in the cloud of intelligence
here in the hearth
there’s only hearse
passing by
words, actions, a curse
on the childless earth.

While there are more men
learned men of letters,
way too well-read
there’s this occult night
dark, dreadfully red,
the seraphic cloud
adrift in the crowd,
the crying cradle jowls
in the mounds of dead
in search of a bonding
looking for a tying thread.