Our love is now like an epic novel,
thousands of pages in length,
with most pages torn
other burned - in the tragic fire.
I tried to save what I could
believing it was worth saving
or worth holding onto -
believing that nothing dies
but in the end,
what do I have?
Just scraps of the book...
We wrote the book together -
I remember how it was,
page after page
chapter after chapter,
lie scattered around a room
in a forgotten home
in a forgotten place
like dark shadows
under a hazy sky.
Page after page,
written with a purpose
written with love.
Sure, there were chapters
that didn't seem to belong
or have any purpose that could be understood
but every part of the story
had a purpose and place,
whether good or bad
within the larger narrative.
This was a story to be told
for generations to come -
passed down within the family
and as part of a cultural tradition.
Looking back,
at the whole book
and not just a chapter here
or there,
taken out of context,
you see a theme
which emerges out of the many
unplanned chapters.
It was always about love
and that matters
more than the quality of the narrative...
it matters more than
how things might have seemed
at any one moment in time.
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This approaches that theme of what really matters and treats the love, the relationship, the bond, the connection as if it was a theme for a book... a theme for how one might want to make sense of everything.
YOU ARE READING
What Matters Most: Poems About Love, Loss, & Trauma
PoetryThis is a collection of poems inspired by love, loss of love, and other events that began in late July of 2000. This is my autobiography in poetry form. It's not just about love but also about the loss of those I have loved. I had fallen totally and...
