In the Heart of Your Darkness

Tell me, my heart, of the reasons for our being if not the seeking and finding of love;

Love in its softest, flowing, naked form, love in the midst of this chaos and void.

For are we not all but sojourners here on the long, hard pilgrimage into the heart of darkness;

Into the thick bondage of night, seeking that temple and sanctuary of ancient love

That lies in the bosom of this other soul that we both feel so closely, so vividly real?

With my baser instincts I eat and drink and breathe and even propagate;

Thrusting the lines of my body and the curve of my back into the night, into the world.

But is there nothing more? Can’t you feel the pulse of something far greater in the night?

With my instincts I may even create, but take a step back and what have I truly made?

Does not all of this art lead me back along the same ancient path, with all roads

Leading to the center like many tributaries of the great and flowing stream of life and

Am I not swept along searching always for the endless ocean that is your love?

Painting the pictures and writing the words; crying out for your hands in the night.

With my deepest and purest self I plunge and drive desperately to the core of you,

Pushing and seeking ever to touch your soul with the truest essence of me,

Finding, in the heart of your darkness, the light and peace that my soul has been craving

Since the first cold breath came crashing into my lungs; the sound of it in the first sharp cry

That came ripping from my lips into the strange air and beautiful light.

Have I not found in you the only true contentment and rest, curled up in the bottom of your heart?

Where else does such a peace and fulfillment abide in the whole of this dark and weary world?

The brilliant sky of morning has no color if I cannot compare it to your eyes.

The shining beacon of all the night lights of heaven lead me nowhere but to your heart.

The sweet taste of the richest wine or the bread of life dripping with honey

Have no flavor if I cannot share them with you and watch the delight in your eyes.

The most beautiful things that I could create have their roots thickly and deeply in you.

Darling, finding you has been the purpose and drive of all my sad life and

Loving you has been its meaning. To touch and know you deeply, to love you and be loved by you,

To merge our bodies and spirits back together as one, finding every missing part in each other;

Is this not the poetry written deep in the bottom of our hearts? Is this not the fuel for our bright and terrible burning?

Eric M. Petit