“Always the Procreant Urge of the World” – in honor of Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman - always the procreant urge

College students I supposed, 
they sat at the near sides of a small table 
in the book store coffee shop, 
he blond bearded and speaking thoughtfully, 
she smiling so slightly, so fetchingly 
at what he said, 
the subtle current of love, 
almost tangible to the observer, 
stirring in me 
old feelings 
of the bottomless joy of first love. 

I know— 
they say the universe has no desires, 
it is a beautiful thoughtless symmetry 
of math and energy,

but as I watched, 
at the little table, 
the universe silently pressed on, 
the shining girl and boy 
at its center, 
scarcely knowing the power at work in them, 
but feeling 
—yes—feeling its urge. 


(Here is the portion of Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself” Part 3, which inspired my little poem.)

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