Thursday, June 30, 2016

Simone Weil 54

Love took my hand and smiling did reply, / 'Who made the eyes but I?'” The palm at the end of the mind stands outside my window; men climb, take machetes to its coconuts. One cut a spoon out of the coconut's crown and handed it to my son. He ate its meat. Yesterday, our other daughter watched; there was no meat, but she took our word. Bananas come in hands; beneath them a heavy heart. The forces of creation aren't unseen, though we fail in our attention. To attend is to love, but not to want. Love apart from blood is syllable and sound. I love what I am unlike. 

No comments: