An Ordinary Poem on Love
And I search for a definition of love,
as if it hadn't been done before.
to know what it meant to others,
to know what it meant to me.
.
Sia said it's a state,
Kylie said it is what you do,
the words, the acts which bring two together,
the feeling when you're not even sure.
.
Billie said it's nurturing someone's soul,
Norah said it's how you deal with change.
Celine said it's affection, an attachment,
what makes sacrifice some kind of a treat.
.
Miley said it's that last piece of cake
which I give you though I want it all.
Dua said love is when you can't stay
mad at each other for long.
.
Birdy said you are in love
if you can love someone's darkness,
the thing you found in me,
the thing you couldn't stand.
.
Lana said it's the light you get,
like a gift unasked for,
what makes you want to be better
than what you really are.
.
Leon said love is scarcely a fairy tale,
I can tell you it's a lot of work,
Dido chided her and said -
that's the saddest definition I've heard.
.
My lover asked me a strange one-
do you love my leaves or my roots,
the pretty things which will pass in time,
or the ugly me you've come to know.
.
And I tell her she's my secret flame,
what keeps me lighted and alive -
what I do to her, what I do with her,
the act, the feeling, the thought.
.
I hold her, as tenderness floods me,
for both life and love are tendrils,
that storm in any pause,
that ability when we know how to fly,
.
that pause in any storm,
that ability when we know how to fly.
Note:
The sneaky and fun thing I did in this poem is to use my favorite singers to talk about love in their inimitable ways, all culled from their songs!!
I write so much on so many things. Relationships is a recurrent topic, as I traverse myriad emotions. Because of them my heart and my mind are my poetry labs, and I'm never bereft of things to write about. And I'm amazed at the discoveries. Day in day out I find new ways in which I can hurt - and get hurt. There are old fault lines which never get repaired, and fresh wounds which find their way into scars.
Its facetious to say this is the cost of being in love, the price one pays to be vulnerable and open to both bliss and hurt.
Because much more than being, love is a realisation.
Because beyond its craggy transversion, it's a discovery of all the good residing in us, things we didn't know about ourselves, the essential purity which actually defines us. Beyond the drudgery, jaggedness,and angularity - which often becomes our character's annotation - lies the still clear water of shadows and sunlight, the beauty of which even we don't realize until the clear sight of love discovers it.
Because at the bottom of it, love is action. It is giving beyond our urgencies, our insipidity, our masquerade : love is the only emotion allowed entry into our fears, our secrets, our failures, the essence of us.
The dawning of this, with the advent of love, is to find the treasure each one of us really is.
Hear the poem:
I write, so you can enjoy and expand your world. Would you like to support me? Well, here’s what you can do -
share this post -
subscribe if you still haven’t -
tell me of your thoughts -