| Divide/Multiply How precious sweet, my herald heart that beckons me to split the days. My love of prescient grace and arts bids that I divide my ways; As if I would but place my tasks, into this basket and another and in so doing, she simply asks that I seal them all and close the cover and put them all gently aside, for caught within their wickered strands, a careworn cargo’s held inside capturing both heart and hands. And left to us, to just we two, the gain: the remainder of this division. A bountiful sum of time and love, and how it’s spent is our decision. So speak to me of what’s to come and with me wile away the hours, for all that grace has within us done has multiplied this love of ours. written June 10, 2000 |