Such beauty is tiring and trying, so warming there is concern of burning out before greater awareness can evolve. Even Joy seems aghast at the hidden wonder about to unfold.

For the infirm that cannot control their body temperature, such revelations are frightening and establishing some distance is the only sensible option. The awareness of lack of control and the fear of being overpowered is prominent, yet acknowledging my weakness frees me from the guilt that I should do better; that I should cope with a joy I recognise but am unable to embrace.

So comes sadness in that I cannot have that which seems here for me but out of reach and turn my sadness upon itself and am sad that I am sad.

I wish neither to consume, nor be consumed by love, but to have my love consumed, and in the emptiness that prevails dwells the wonder where weariness has vanished, long gone this stifled love afraid to be free.

Demand of me until I die
then demand of thee
demand nought but emptiness to be
and if truth should woo you to embrace
know all is truly lies.