Love and Poetry.

Nuts for Love.

Back. Sometimes it’s not the best direction in which to aim one’s gaze. Mostly it only serves to bring up the bad memories of hard times we’ve had to endure. Occasionally it can be used as a learning tool, tracking through mistakes you’d rather not make a second time around and those you’d like to make over and over again. Then there are the very rare instances where I like to sit, have a glass of wine, and look back on my life to see the workings of time. Fate. Fortune. Chance. Destiny. Whatever you call it….it’s like skipping rocks on the glass water of a still lake. There is not always a direct connection between the happenings in our lives, but if you stop, close your eyes, release your breath, and wait…you will feel it. A magnetism from one event to the next. Something that, at one point, pulled you this way – at another point, pushed you that way. So I like to sit and differentiate between my own will and that of the universe. What decisions have I consciously made for myself, what has simply happened upon me, and where has it lead me over time?

I have been pondering on the subject of love a bit lately, what with the impending holiday and all. So I have taken to looking back on love in my life. Where it came from, where I lost it, where it has taken me…quite the ride, I must say. It all started with my family: With my Mom who had the courage to call me her own, even though she would have me alone in a time that didn’t understand when a mistake could become a choice. With my grandparents who looked past the ways of a strict society and instead looked into their own hearts to find love and acceptance for the new member of their family. For my Dad, whom I will never refer to as my ‘stepdad,’ because he has raised me as though I were his own, because it would be an insult to his standing in my heart.

I guess you could say that the biggest rockstars in my life in regards to ‘love’ are my parents. My mom and dad met (I think…) when I was about two or three years old. Up to this point in my life, it had been just me and my mom…..which perhaps lead me to the belief that ‘Henry’ (as he was referred to by me back then) needed to jump through a few hoops in order to be allowed into the club. And by ‘jump through a few hoops,’ I of course mean ‘get hazed by Jennifer until Jennifer sees fit to let you off the hook for interrupting her cozy little life with mommy and only mommy.’ So maybe it was kind of silly when I told my grandparents (just before they were to meet Henry for the first time) that he pooped in his pants. It could have been slight overkill to tell my mom that I would finish my hamburger ONLY if Henry promised never to speak to me ever again. Certainly, if I could, I would take back the time when Henry was using the only restroom and in lieu of waiting for him to clear out, I peed on his pillow instead…..at least I think I would…. Lets just put it this way: I have, perhaps, put my parents through some questionable times, and through each and every one, they have shown me love. Henry (aka Dad) and I get along quite nicely now, thought that won’t stop me from spilling the beans about him pooping in his pants if he crosses me….

There have been other people, other times in my life when I have found and lost love, each teaching me something along the way:

did i tell you

about the moon

who left me all alone

to defend the night

on my own

all because he thought

he was being chased

by the sun?

There have been new additions to my life, both expected and unexpected, bringing joy and purpose to my being:

i never imagined you

could be so beautiful

so perfect.

with his eyes and my noises;

little squeaks and peeps

that wake me

in the middle of the night

to remind me that i am now

a mother.

and i know

when i pick you up

i will have a hard time

letting go.

so i hold you close,

closer,

your skin

like a drop of water

against my own.

I have found everlasting love. The kind that makes you want to be a better person. The kind you hope your children will one day find. The kind you would die for:

i remember

what it feels like

to be caught

in the snow,

so thick

and white

and pure.

i can see it

all around me

covering me

inside of me

a new life

grows so that

when we are gone

a small piece of me and

a small piece of you

will be left to linger

like the feeling

of being caught

in the snow

and watching it fall as

hopelessly,

endlessly

as i have

for you.

This Valentine’s Day: may we appreciate love in all its forms, be grateful for love past and present, and hope for chances at love, those skipping stones of fate that take us where we want to forever be.

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