Like the water
of a deep stream,
love is always too much.
We did not make it.
Though we drink till we burst,
we cannot have it all,
or want it all.
In its abundance
it survives our thirst.
In the evening we come down to the shore
to drink our fill,
while it flows
through the regions of the dark.
It does not hold us,
except we keep returning to its rich waters
willing to die,
into the commonwealth of its joy.
(via Lavender and Onions)
P.S. My good friend and srat sister Caroline made a movie of the same name: Like the Water. (No big deal.)
P.P.S. Great pic of Wendell here on my friend Ashley’s blog.
P.P.P.S. Mary Tobin’s first Easter! She’s officially, like, a little person: