In a natural world

In a natural world dressed
         in such simplicities
the truth is so plain to see
         nothing duplicitous
nothing tendentious
         and no dishonesty :
everything is as it is
         which explains Gertrude’s
rose is a rose is a rose
         though by any other name
it would have been as sweet

Choice and preferment
         single us out—
and then there’s love
         that takes its course
free from ritual and process
         that which in living
outlives the moment
         that inclines towards infinity
and is beyond measure
         which is love’s true measure
not the glint in her eye
         nor the quickening of breath
not the contraction of muscle
         nor the stroke of a hand
not a pouting lip
         nor hair that falls loosely
across her broad forehead
       nor the blush of her cheeks
nor the ache of the limbs
        nor a convulsion of the flesh
but simply a being
       in the moment
moment to moment
       with neither judgment
nor expectation other than to revel
         in that moment
and the untrammelled pleasure
         of pure existence

John Lyons