How Beautiful the Beloved. Gregory Orr
And once only, then still
To say: Yes.
And say it complete,
Say it as if the word
Filled the whole moment
With its absolute saying.
Later for “but,”
Later for “if.”
Now
Only the single syllable
That is the beloved,
That is the world.
It didn’t say we had to be morbid.
The Book said the beloved died,
But also that she comes again,
That he’s reborn as words.
The Book said: Everything perishes.
The Book said: That’s why we sing.
So tightly that fate itself
Was changed into destiny.
Then everything was different.
Exactly as before, but also
Different.
Death still there,
But different.
Loss still
Omnipresent, but not the same.
Held in our arms, holding us
Even as she vanished,
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