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Love is Love, Sir Edward Dyer

The lowest trees have tops, the ant her gall,
The fly her spleen, the little sparks their heat;
The slender hairs cast shadows, though but small
And bees have stings, although they be not great;
Seas have their source, and so have shallow springs,
And love is love, in beggars as in kings.

Where rivers smoothest flow, deep are the fords,
The sundial stirs, yet none perceive it move,
The firmest faith is in the fewest words
The turtles cannot sing, and yet they love;
True hearts have eyes and ears, no tongues to speak,
They see, they hear, they sigh, and then they break.
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Truth

If I should still dare call you friend
Would you then turn away from me?
Trapped by my betraying lies
Or witched by errors in your eyes
I shared my soul for you to see.
I told you what I thought was true.
But was my vision really me?

And truth is bloodstained edges, barbs.
With tiny changes of the light
It shifts and flickers like a ghost.
It leaves no place to stand.

---me

January 2015

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