My Love, My Journey, My Life. Poem by CHRISTOPHER MUDIENYI

MY LOVE, MY JOURNEY, MY LIFE.
It is a far journey, my love,
But there's no journey a man may fail to make,
Only if he sets his heart to it, my love,
There's nothing he cannot do,
There are no mountains he may not climb,
No desserts he cannot cross,
If love leads him and he holds his life in his hand,
Counting it as nothing,
Ready to keep it or lose it,
As heaven may order.

Listen my dear love I ask thee,
What is life?
What is love?
It is a feather,
It is the seeds of the grass,
Blown hither and thither,
Sometimes multiplying and dying in the act,
Sometimes carried away into the heavens,
But sometimes if the seed be good and heavy,
It may perchance travel a little.
On the road it wills.

It is well to try and journey ones road,
And fight with the air,
Life, yes life,
Man must die,
At the worst he can,
But die a little sooner,
I will go with thee across the desert,
I will go with thee over the mountains,
Unless perchance I fall to the ground,
Fall on the way my love,

What is life?
What is love?
Tell me my love,
Love of my life,
Who's wise?
Who knows the secret of my life?
My world of fantasies,
To you I revealed,
Yes, my fantasy world,
World that lies above and around,
The beautiful stars up high,
Tell me, my love,
Who flash your words from afar,
Without a voice but beautiful smiles,
Tell me my love,
The secrets of life,
Wither it goes,
And whence it comes!

You cannot answer me,
You know not,
Listen, I will answer,

Out of the dark we came,
Into the dark we go,
Like a storm driven blind at night,
We fly out of the nowhere,
for a moment,
our wings are seen in the light,
light of fire and lo!
we're gone again into the nowhere,
life is nothing,
life is something,
love is none,
love is all,
it is the hand with which we hold death,
it is the glow worm that shines in the night time,
and black in the morning,
it is the white breathe of the oxen in the winter,
it is the little shadow that runs across the grass,
loses itself at sunset,
across the desert we trek,
over the mountains we climb,
in search of germinating sensation in our blind hearts.

what do i know about the deserts?
what do i know about the mountains/
little; very little, my love,
there's a strange land yonder,
a land of beauty,
a land of ugliness,
a land of trees, streams and snow peaks,
and a white road to lead us,
i haven't seen seen it,
but heard many talk of it,
but what is the good of talking,
it grows dark,
those who'll live to see will see,

my love we need not fear each other,
i dig no holes for you to fall in,
i make no plots,
if we ever cross the mountains,
mountains behind the sun,
i will tell what i know,
take my hand, my love,
and let's start this journey,
but remember you have my love,
you have my life.