Scattered by Love in its mindless flight
are worlds of all kinds where we sometimes alight.
While some may be here of their own design,
others arrive by the fruit of the vine.
You’ve likely heard the old cliche
of “veritas in vino”, yet gulping this wine
invariably leads to a case of extended amnesia!
Before you imagine that’s the end, I’ll share
how some are tricked here, again and again.
The Sommelier approaches your spirit table,
leans close, winks, and pours you a little taste –
just enough for the perfumed fragrance
to reveal its promise, alluringly suggestive
of lingering attachments, with a subtle hint
of that old intoxicating insinuation:
the longing of emptiness for form.
You are encouraged by the stirrings
of an ancient interior appetite
to proceed, intrigued.
Raising the glass of soulful curiosity
to your waiting lips, you promptly fall right in.
There are fleshy particularities to this ruby rapture
swirling in the chalice of your indulgence which
you do agree meld perfectly with a persuasive
yearning for urgent physical expression.
Desire charms with its bouquet,
and so you find yourself haplessly afloat
in a dark womb of wine, a well-crafted cask
timed to an irresistible uncorking, decanting you
into a crafted container of personhood once more,
just as with prior vintages poured so expertly before –
and all for just another taste, just a little innocent sip,
until you find yourself incarnated here once again,
and totally bewildered anew by the trip!