I am looking for a print and/or audio copy of the poem "Then is all love? It is, it is" - I first heard it in an art installation in San Francisco in the 1980s (which unfortunately burned down), with original music by Herb Alpert accompanying the poem. A copy of the poem was given to visitors to the installation, which I loaned to someone and never got back. I haven't had any success finding it in any form. I would appreciate any help or leads anyone can give me. Thanks!

For what (little) it's worth, I have a copy of "They Have Not Seen the Stars," which is supposed to be a collection of all Mr. Bradbury's poetry--I checked all the titles listed, twice, and skimmed for the final lines of each poem, to no avail. Sure sounds like something he'd write, though.

Ok, I googled the quote, and it returned "The Haunted Computer and the Android Pope," (1981), and "The Complete Poetry of Ray Bradbury" (also 1981). Guess I'll have to re-check the "Stars" book, or maybe it's not in there.

Now I'm on a mission. Checked contents lists for both above posted books; neither include "Then is all love? It is, it is." Google response on that inquiry from spaceagecity or something like that, takes you to ray bradbury online, and shows this poem as a "signed, limited edition of 230 published by the Orange County Book Society" in 1981.

Please pardon my misinformation; I was just trying to help out. This post caught my eye, because in 1980 or so, an old prof. of mine wrote on some of my work, "Isn't all poetry love poetry?"

Whether this work exists beyond the limited edition, I can't tell you. Good luck. Like I've said before, I'm just a fan, but I'd be interested in knowing if this poem is in print besides the limited edition.

Ray also used this poem for his Christmas card in 1981. You can find copies of both the signed, limited edition broadside poem and the Christmas card by doing a search on the Advanced Book Exchange (ABE). Just type in Ray's name as the author, with the poem's name as the title being seached. I found four copies of the poem (both the Christmas card and the broadside), ranging in price from $50 to $150 (not cheap). Here is a link to ABE:
http://www.abebooks.com

Thanks, Richard, twice.

First, for the above info. Second, you reminded me that I have three of the Christmas poems. I looked them up, and this one wasn't one of them, but I found a copy of Christus Apollo which I was very happy to locate as most of my RB books were lost in a fire in 1994.

Ravenswake:

That is a sad note to hear about your books being burned up and not in the F451 way either. What irony in that the books you might most cherish meeting this kind of end. Were any of them autographed by Ray?

biplane 1, in January 1994, my dad's place burned to the ground. Even though neither of my two sisters nor I had lived there for years, we all kept most of our books there with dad's. My dad, now 79, was lucky to get out. I wrote Mr. B not long after this, asking if he could recommend a vendor that might carry some of the books I lost; his gracious response mentioned an LA bookstore.

All the RB books I lost then were paperback, mostly Bantam, none signed. I only had two hardcovers, Something Wicked and Dandelion Wine; they were with me and were the only two of his books I had left. In 1998, when I finally got the chance of a lifetime to meet Ray in Champaign, IL, it was one of those two survivor books, SWTWC, my favorite of all, that he signed--at my request, he wrote "Live Forever!"

Sorry, I'm getting carried away again and saying too much. I've been gradually rebuilding my library of Ray's work, as I can. And, even though I'm approaching 50 and have read Ray since the 60's, I'm still absolutely awestruck by the incredible gift this man has given the world.

But you can't say too much about Ray and his work, right?

ravenswake:

Thank you for the information. I know that I have said a lot about Ray's unbelievable kindesses to me over the years (38 next month)but for others to have experienced ray in person, such as yourself, little more need be said about a truly great person.

I am privileged to have Ray's phone number in my cell phone, the number which he gave to me quite a few years ago. I have never abused this privilege and when I do call Ray he always seems so glad to hear from me.
Recently I have squelched the urge to give him a ring, but as reports are noted to his increased activities with book signings and lectures, I will call him again soon.

Usually I call with a specific question or comment and I think that he appreciates that as opposed to rambling on as he is a busy person. And he answers the phone himself which I think is neat.

Then is all love?

Then is all love? It is! It is!
Pure gravity is love. It loves to seize our feet.
It snatches souls and slows the pulse
that fleet churns life throughout our blood.

Mass calls each neighborhood.
Thus Earth loves us, and tugs our cuffs,
and roughs our hair, and keeps us here,
most dear to all its mass.

While up above, or far below,
depending how you class or see it,
The Sun says, "Love!" and Earth replies, "So be it."

And hurled around the Universe transfixed
by Sun's pure love our Earth strolls, mixed
with other worlds, that in the sling of gravity
are freed but kept to circling.
Sing those songs of vanity,
that Sun insists we make in cycling
and round 'abouting, give and take.

As with the Sun to Earth, and Earth to us
so heart to blood and blood to skin
and nearest atom, molecule, or germ
knows love within,
each to the next, and clings to keep.

In soul of nearest worm asleep
a kindling whisper burns as bright as fire above:
to Man, to blood, to Earth's grim bulk,
to Sun, to suns beyond our Sun,
to microscopic blink,
electric spark beyond that blink,
in Titan push, or subterranean shove,
God says one single word that binds us each to all, "Love."
Now listen, "Love."
And once more listen, "Love."

And echos, "Love . . . love . . . love."
Robert Heinlein