Love's Night of The Long Knives

Photo: me, Duck Pond

Last night:

We have to trust the dawn.

We have to put the night behind,

we have to put our words behind.

It's been a bruising, tiring, hurting time -

if we don't forgive, we will wreck havoc:

we will be a wreck.

Anger reflects our worst selves -

not our truest ones.

Words arising out of the churn of our fears,

are unconquered bullies, a part of us

we ourselves are not compatriots of.

Embracing our fears 

does not make us the fear -

it does make us our own enemy.

This morning:

This morning,

I come out scrubbed and clean.

I have much to give -

most of it, the best of me.

Let not the night be

the final judge for the day.

My weapon which hurt you

swung from an arm which lies broken.

As I bow in shame

at knowing myself at my worst,

can I seek out your best?

Here I am, my love,

the winner who stands broken & broken-hearted.

Can you heal me?

Photo: Kathrin Federer

Relations are discoveries, found after arduous journeys. Intrinsically, everything about love changes in time - the nature of love, the definition of love, the lovers themselves. Is it for good or bad? That can never be the question. Did you last the upheavals to reach the calm? That is the question. 

Love is not the chemical chaos inside the body - it is in reality, the residue of our grace which outlives every fight, regret, and outbreak. It is the recognition of the fact that truths evolve, people evolve, and every new dawn reveals something which we may fall in love with. 

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Hear Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio slug it out in an incredible sequence from the peerless Revolutionary Road, as a precursor to the poem.

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 A poem is not a balm to a  broken heart - it is a companion. It knows what scars are, and is there in empathy, silently holding our hands. 

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