Solo for Saturday Night Guitar.

Solo for Saturday Night Guitar

Time was. Time is. Time shall be.

Man invented time to be used.

Love was. Love is. Love shall be.

Yet man never invented love

Nor is love to be used like time.

A clock wears numbers one to twelve

And you look and read its face

And tell the time pre-cisely ex-act-ly.

Yet who reads the face of love?

Who tells love numbers pre-cisely ex-act-ly?

Holding love in a tight hold for keeps,

Fastening love down and saying

"It's here now and here for always."

You don't do this offhand, careless-like.

Love costs. Love is not so easy

Nor is the shimmering of star dust

Nor the smooth flow of new blossoms

Nor the drag of a heavy hungering for someone.

Love is a white horse you ride

or wheels and hammers leaving you lonely

or a rock in the moonlight for rest

or a sea where phantom ships cross always

or a tall shadow always whispering

or a circle of spray and prisms -

maybe a rainbow round your shoulder.

Heavy, heavy is love to carry

and light as one rose petal,

light as a bubble, a blossom,

a remembering bar of music

or a finger or a wisp of hair

never forgotten.

Illustrasjon: Tehme Melck (tatt i dag, faktisk. På Mølen, for de som vet hvor det er).

Dikt: Carl Sandburg, Honey and Salt (1953)