Love's Content

‘Love’s Content’

‘Love’, said Thomas, ‘is to choose and will

The good of the other’, and with that empty

Thought he is content. But as for us we still

Await for content to resolve matters aplenty

That puzzle the will. For what, pray tell us,

Answers to the good? The way to formulate

Our thought is given, but what is to impel us

Is the content, it is that which is to stimulate.

Let the form be determined by the content

Not the content by the form! ‘Love is naught

Else but pleasure accompanied by the idea

Of an external cause’, so we’ve been taught.

The philosopher of substance to us delivers

The insubstantial. What pleases me needn’t

Pleaseth thee. What contents indeed differs,

It’s not content from without, most puissant

The content not the form of the reasonable.

Love is instinct, declares the one revealing

Our true motives, thoughts unseasonable,

He believed. So like avarice, and appealing

To the desire to possess. Instinct is what?

A contentless thought to explain another.

And what is it to possess? I tell thee, heart,

I say nay to empty formalisms. I go further

Into the content of love and love’s content.

You are my everything, love, most blessed

Content surpassing what anyone can invent.

I know content thru’ content the very best.