For Jim - Who asked for a poem on what love is.

When I was a child

Love was the warm glow

of birthday candles

Illuminating comfort,

Hide n' go seek,

On balmy summer nights

Lit by fireflies,

Sweetly innocent

Rippling laughter

Soft as chenille,

Serene as my grandmother's

Cornflower blue eyes,

 

As I grew older

Love became this tangled growth

Difficult to discern

Strangely cumbersome and

Infinitely slippery,

Piercing,

An arrow in my chest

A burning in my throat,

A chess match of taking sides

Never belonging to any

A tug-of-war through

Other people's pain,

 

When I fell into it

Love became insanity,

Delirium in

Arid, scorching deserts

Blinding, white-out storms,

A deluge of bleeding

Fingers, hearts, and

Bruised skin

The yearning a knot lodged

In my stomach and throat ,

A fury of passion,

Desperation to drink poison

If it came from the beloved's lips,

 

When I spurned it

Love became haughty,

A useful tool,

Cynical laugh,

Amused eyes,

A smirk for a smile,

Razor words wielded

With wintry precision,

Numbness

To cover the scars

That continued to bleed,

Compunction,

Desire to hurt

As I was hurting,

A knife

To twist,

 

When my daughter was born

Love became feral,

Bared teeth to protect

Terror a living thing

A bird beating through my ribs

To escape

The certainty that this,

This small, wondrous miracle

Was more than I deserved,

Abysmal thoughts of loss,

Threatened to unhinge,

Snapping through

My chain,

 

Now I know love,

As the infinitesimal care

Of holding another's imperfections

Cupped in the palm of your hand

Fully cognizant of the fragility

As they themselves

Hold your own,

Seeing beyond the layers

Stretching definitions

Accepting the mystery of another

With grace and gratitude,

Letting expectation unwind,

Flowing, intertwining,

Braiding bodies, hearts, minds,

Singing a history of together

Where regrets cannot take root

There is no room for such

When everything has brought you here.

 

Love is pain

Unutterable suffering,

Indescribable beauty

Rapturous joy,

Two sides of the same whole,

I would not grieve

If I did not love,

And pain would not swell

If joy had not leapt in

The eyes of another

While looking into my own.

 

Love is a stripping away

 And tenderly replacing process,

Love is remembering

Names, details,

the tilt of head,

the expression in eyes,

Pink tights, pigtails,

Stones in pockets,

A knitted scarf,

The blush of skin,

Gruffness of voice,

All the bits

that define,

The flow of days

Into years,

The hand that slipped into yours

and stayed there

Until slipping away,

The words in the dark,

Secret smiles, private jokes,

The building of something

Greater than the sum of its parts.

 

Love is Gestalt

A mystery masking

As a word.