“It’s complicated.” How many times have we heard that? Ask anyone about love and it’s the answer you might get as they shuffle their feet, look down for a few seconds, then slowly, head tilted, gaze up at you with a twinkle in their eye. Better to have love and lost than…we all know the saying. We humans live for love. It gives our lives meaning while holding our hearts ransom to the whims of brokenness. Because, let’s face it, we’re all a bit broken. And that makes the fact that someone could love us seem all the more improbable, all the more rare.
Love makes us do crazy things. It makes us deny ourselves and our best interests. It makes heroes of us. And victims. It is a many splendored thing as the song says. Love feels exhilarating and excruciating in a single breath. We seem to have a love-hate relationship with love.
What would you do; what have you done for love? I know, I know, it’s complicated. I wish it weren’t. What a different world this would be if we just let ourselves be love. We were made for this, after all. Somewhere between that first light, our first breath and the darkness, our last, we have forgotten. But just imagine it, can you, for even a second? Dare I say love doesn’t need to be complicated. Not when we remember we are love.
Oh I don’t know. Maybe I’m a fool. I’ll blame it on this week’s ReVerse. And the fact that this morning I paused for a moment to notice a rose on my morning walk. Her petals were drooping under the weight of raindrops. She was bit wild looking. In fact, she didn’t even look like a rose, or at least not the perfect cluster of petals we have come to idolize. And yet she still smelled sweet. She was undeniably a rose. Try to explain that to someone, I thought. Most of us recognize that even a jumbled mess of petals battered by the rain is a rose, even if it doesn’t look perfect. You could say, it’s complicated, but the truth is a rose is a rose and maybe, just maybe love is, because love is, if we let it be.
Sorry for rambling. I’m not sure any of this makes sense today. I’m not convinced it needs to. Peace and love. Peace and love.
Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 5 May 2019
just like that; there are days when I hesitate
from your kisses
I felt the rush of something…was it wind?
Pass ‘em to me then. I’m not shy
we’re an oddity at best
a wisp, a hint
sleeves, broken hearts,
it costs our soul
keepers risk being owned by the tellers
there’ll be no rest
let the fiddler play
A ReVerse poem is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.