…a concept…a mystery…

LOVE IS LOVE…a concept…a mystery with infinitely many diverse solutions…it captivates our thoughts, emotions, & actions.

 Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Take, for instance, our reactions to what is being said about the abstract concept of Love. Notice, Love’s intention or purpose, not one of us need defend. Nor, do any of us need prove it truly exists. We’ve seen it, felt it, heard it, tasted it, and some of us still relax in the comfortable stench of the burnt candle wick. It has melted past the metallic stub at the end of a once-tall and mighty candle bravely aflame, savagely piercing the darkness…an absence of light that currently rules us, the stifling sound of silence that is all we have come to know.


Obviously, I sit in my pile of ashes, becoming more familiar with the stale charred scent each season. Lingering still, are our traces of smoky teary blurry, and smudged echoes of love… I’d ask an echo for a ride if I could catch up to one but they scorn me with a mocking mop-in-the-face, always to clean up the mess we made. When clean, my heart is empty and echoes along with the other eh eh em emp empt empty empties pties ties ies es s. Emptiness that consumes me.

Each of us only loves as we know to. Love with a burning. Love set ablaze like Sherman’s blistering blitz through the South, burning straight through our hearts and our lives.  To me it’s all about what you put in,  because that is all you will ever see coming back to you. Being on the same page…eh, well at least in the same book, and not settling for NOTHIN’ or nobody…ever, eVeR, EVER!


‘Cause if I’m worth it and I can believe it, I’m surely not settling. I know she’s worth it. And I can’t always support her on my own, even though I do. Coming home with aching bones from job NUMBER THREE. Just so I can put her to bed and tell her a story about how one day we are gonna have so much more and I promise I’ll never give up, never leave, always protect her. Now don’t ya think I know I wanna cry when I leave the room so bad that it almost bursts outta me sometimes. Bursts like water out of a fire hydrant. Red and ever patient, especially with canines, the safety lies in me and is secure because I have not been needed in a fire, yet. But if so, I could let it burst out of me and my safe redness on the corner that has patiently awaited necessity. Most go unnoticed daily by joggers and cars and double strollers stuffed with i-poded infants, too amazed with the flame that’s in front of their faces to notice or appreciate the safety and calm that comes from the sturdy vigil of the concrete slab of me; ready to rescue an entire block from disastrous torching flames, at any time. And I get passed by. Only ones ya see people drawn to, or kids playin’ in, or anyone causing any kind of fuss over at all are the ones that get bashed in by a car or plum knocked over by a trucker in an accident.  How I envy their spew at the very moment of shelter shocking earth shatter. A freedom that a lot of us haters out here, everyone getting defensive, all of us that think we know, and those of us that care to babble, all take for granted. So let’s try to love each other, so that those who wait patiently can feel the love emanating off of everybody around and that’s all they get ’cause they are still stuck waiting…virtuously…and fervently…and PATIENTLY! Among the weeds on the side of the curb, fixed sound structures of steel permanently planted on our concrete corners to save us all……and THAT is love.




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