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No part of this poetry should be reproduced in any form without written consent from the author, Joe DiMino, who retains all rights: contact

"Love Is All Around" (by Joe DiMino)

Love is all around;
Inside, to abide in the heart
When let in—

The human heart—potential for pulse-perfection—
Tissues spun on spiritual loom
By weavers of time and space—weavers of in and out—
Timepiece extraordinary,
Put together by heavens
Finest craftsmen—
Soul jewels
Meticulously placed;
Tweaked and set
To the stars—
We are wind-ups, so to speak;
Our key a master—far greater than a watch sense;
Nor like that of even a novel toy, to be turned till tensely taunt,
And simply released, with predictable mean
In all direction,
The outcome obviously inevitable—

No—ours is more the quixotic collectable—
(ever maturing and therefore of price immeasurable),
That chimes not on the hour
But on the need
Giving the bearer solid foundation
To set his crystal upon—
The internal light of which
Making of us
Beacons to be found—

Hearts in storms
Have been spared
Many a reef—
Guardian ones
Have willed such lamps
Upon the seas when man first took
To surf and tide,
Carrying mortal plagues—
Yes, this Heavenly agent
Of illumination,
Migrated with us
In blood-streams,
Contracted without a cure,
Divine infection
The fever of the living….

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