Nero CaroZiv

The Well Of Love - Poem by Nero CaroZiv

I think in these quiet moments of the night
That love and despise are two feelings of close side
Although we prefer one and shun the other
Nevertheless we do confuse between one another
Like two branches emerging from the same trunk
Of tree, nourished by roots of the same rank
Yet they are so different upon our mood.
Love turns its head towards the EAST
The dawn of day, the sun of new hopes
Despise turns its head towards the west
The end of the day, the dusk before the dark
The pause, the end, the death
The cease, the change.......
There is a change, and I am left poor
The love that had been, nor long ago
A fountain at my heart's door
Whose only tread was to flow
And flow it did; not taking heed
Of storms of tempests
Of its own bounty, or my need
What happy moments I knew
What divine thoughts I drew
From its existence
Blessed was I then all bliss above
Now for this consecrated Fount
Of murmuring, sparkling, living love
What have I left with? Shall I dare tell?
A comfort less and a hidden well
Yes a well of love
I guess
It may be still deep
With water fresh and distilled
I trust it is, and never dry
What it matters if the waters sleep?
In silence and in obscurity of its deep
Such a change, at the very door
Of my fond heart, has made me poor

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, August 14, 2010

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