Honey-Eyed
Oh Babes,
Melting the tundra, the cold fear,
the harshness like sandpaper on stone,
softened into liquid gold.
Nothing else. Nothing more.
What once was, frozen in time,
melts away, leaving only warmth.
Melting. Heating. Melting. Flowing.
What was solid is now fluid,
shifting, changing
a liquid substance remains.
Always liquid. Forever liquid.
As it has always been
this honey eyed essence,
golden and pure,
ever-present, ever-home, everywhere.
Love materializes.
How will I love?
Love is my beauty, soft yet fierce.
Liquid takes form, a new, radiant shape,
exquisitely luminous,
then dissolves once more,
into the endless stream.
Taye Bela Corby
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