Love isn't always easy. In fact, in my experience, it's never easy. It's full of toil and ashes and brokenness, interspersed with moments of laughter and the desperation of bodies holding on to each other in the dark.
Since Valentine's Day is quickly approaching, I thought it would be appropriate to present this little poem about love by Adonis.
Saint Marty is grateful for the love in his life.
Love
by: Adonis
The road and the house love me,
the living and the dead,
and a red clay jug at home
loved by water.
The neighbor loves me,
the field, threshing floor, and fire.
Toiling arms that better
the world, love me,
and go unrewarded with joy.
And tatters of my brother scattered about,
torn from his wilted chest
hidden by wheat spikes and season,
a carnelian from which blood shies.
He was the god of love as long as I lived.
What will love do if I too am gone?
Love is the saving grace of existence.
ReplyDelete