Poetry

Looking for Love

What is love?
A glance across that crowded room,
the thrill of lust; of passion, of want.
No, not love, but desire that you should be mine,
to hold, to have, to one day love.

What is love?
A thousand dates, excitement, joy.
Hands held over table tops, walks along beaches.
Discussions of the future, our future, of setting up home together,
and some day becoming one.

What is love?
Anticipation, future hopes, and dreams
all now scrapped, dissipating into nothingness.
As relationship after relationship is torn apart,
failure to thrive as desired, sorrow taking root instead.

What is love?
The strength to try again, time after time.
Clawing wretchedly after hopelessness subsides…
Searching, resting, refusing to give in.
Living life to the full.

What is love?
Love is found in a multitude of places.
The caring text from a friend, the quick hug on a Sunday morning at church,
the offer to pray for, to stand next to, to listen to.
Love is patient, love is kind, it does not boast, it keeps no record of wrongs.
This is love.

 

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