This thing called love…


This thing called love is a fickle beast. It’s warm and gentle. It’s hurtful and rude at times. It’s sweet and innocent or jealous and spiteful. Loving someone can hurt, if it’s unrequited. Sometimes even requited love can hurt. Love teaches us about ourselves and others. It, also, shows our loved ones how we feel. Love has many different faces, words, and actions. Sometimes love looks like a mom tying her child’s shoe, or a dad teaching his son to catch. It’s a parent making their young adult child learn from their own mistakes and supporting them in their decisions afterwards. It’s a girlfriend holding her boyfriend’s hand during hard times. It’s a husband holding his wife’s hand during childbirth. It’s a friend telling you that you’ve made a big mistake. It’s your child wiping the tears away when they catch you crying…over spilled milk, of course. It’s giving your loved one space when needed, and being with them when you know they shouldn’t be alone. 

The most important thing about love is that it is. Love is. 

Love is. 

First poem after 10 years of writer’s block


Missing you

I’m talking without speaking
Hearing without listening
Looking without seeing
Learning without knowing
Touching without feeling

Then, you’re here,
and suddenly the world
Has color and sunshine.
Birds sing and wind blows,
I get lost in your eyes,
Hang on every word,
Not wanting it to end

     and then
we say good-bye
   and once again

I’m talking without speaking
Hearing without listening
Looking without seeing
Learning without knowing
Touching without feeling