Groom and Bride

Anonymous One,
what fattens the fear of death –
or paints the menace, consuming abyss?
The lifelong nourishment of this:
“me” and “my” and “mine” and “not mine”,
love as possession, love mutual gain,
love as comfort, consolation, a lover
one in whom selfishness runs for cover,
accumulations adding to one’s glow
without the wisdom of letting go…
Love and death are groom and bride.
Love knows death well: loving well
is the practice of death. No pride,
jealousy, possession there can dwell.
Love sees the sacred in the lover,
death – in whom selfishness can’t run for cover.
The fear of death has this to tell:
one has clutched or clung and called it “love”;
one has loved little or not loved well.

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