Love's The Only Thing Worth Dying For Poem by Patti Masterman

Love's the only thing worth dying for, bleeding for:
From out of the whole world's total comings and goings,
The only commerce can absolve finally the emptiness
All the saints knew this: that to truly live abundantly
One must give oneself over to that slow, flameless burn
Renew the undying heart of love; encompassing holocaust
Then the purified heart becomes a hidden sun
With the fearful power suns contain, secretly within
Which the eternal mind of creation can combust;
Exhaust, the continuous machination of it's universes
Whose very cores ignite, when that unmanifest potential;
Of Love becomes too great, too strong to bear
To be resisted for one more instant out of time
The force borne toward and away from love, unbalanced
Creation's exigency bursts forth into being, out of fullness,
From a single dying exhalation of breath, either side of the fulcrum
Lit by the single fuse of one who once died, blossoming into love.