Figure, Ground

In love the time is slow,  
As droplets grow,  
And trickle down heady, expectant skin,  
With time to choose where they might go  

I gather some in my hands and give it to my friends,  
I splash some on my face,  
I know it will never run dry,  
 
And to my surprise,  
At a basin in this mountain stream,  
I met a shining being,  
Bathing and washing her luminescent hair,  
 
She whispered thus unto me:  
 
"Love is the ocean,  
it rises up like rain and kisses the foreheads of the mountains and hills,  
and once they are satisfied,  
gently finds its way back to the sea"  
 
At this, I myself dissolved, and became the rivers and the streams.  
I danced in the sky with the birds and the wind,  
And I trickled into the ground to comfort the moles.  
My laughter pattered on old tin roofs,  
My sighs the creaking of frozen lakes,  
My passion the rise and fall of waves in an open swell.  
 
Eventually I came back to myself, with form and direction where I had been formless and my only direction had been the wind and currents of the ocean.  
I picked up my bag, walked out across the courtyard to unlock the shed, and cycled to work under an autumn sky.