The Peasants' Revolt
by: Billy Collins
Soon enough it will be over--
the shirt hanging from the doorknob,
trees beyond the windows,
and the kettle of water bubbling on a burner.
Soon enough, soon enough,
the many will be overwhelmed by the one.
Instead of the shaded road to the house,
the blue wheelbarrow upended,
and a picture book across my hips in bed,
just an expanse of white ink,
or a dark tunnel coiling away and down.
No sunflowers, no notebook,
no sand-colored denim jacket
and a piece of straw in the teeth,
just a hole inside a larger hole
and the starless maw of space.
But we are still here,
with all the world before us,
a beaded glass of water on the night table,
and the rest of this summer afternoon ahead.
So undo the buttons on your white blouse
and toss it over a chair back.
Let us lie down side by side
on these crisp sheets like two effigies on a tomb,
supine in a shadowy corner of a cathedral.
Let us be as still and serene
as Richard II and Anne of Bohemia--
he who ended the Peasants' Revolt so ruthlessly
and she to whom he was so devoted,
now entombed together, hand in stone hand.
Let us close our eyes in the white room
and let the fan blades on the ceiling cool us
as they turn like the hands of a speeding clock.
Love is complex. Love can hurt and heal. It can bring pleasure and pain. It can be a revolt, and it can be a coronation. Love comes in many forms. I love my wife, and I love my kids. I love my puppy. I love my extended families, both through blood and marriage.
Personally, I don't know anything about love, really. Yes, I've tried most of my life to be a loving person to everyone, including those who bug the shit out of me. Everyone deserves to be loved. (Except Donald Trump, but let's not go there.) I'm lucky because I know there are people in this world who love me deeply, despite all of my failings and hard edges. (Yes, I do have hard edges.)
And that's what love is all about--that word "despite." True and meaningful love sees through cruelty and aggravation and pain to what lies beneath, which is soft and gentle and kind. Yes, I love individuals who make love very hard. People who can't move past their own disappointments and resentments, who put conditions on love.
I can't love you until . . .
How about this one?--
I will love you if . . .
Sound familiar? If you have to put qualifiers on love, then it's not really love.
That doesn't mean that you have to allow yourself to be hurt over and over again. No. That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that, if you love someone, you have to love ALL of them--even the most difficult (and some would say unlovable) parts.
The heart is one of the most resilient creations in the universe. It can be broken, over and over and over and over. Yet, it can also be mended, over and over and over and over. I've been through my fair share of heartbreaks and heartmends. That's what life is all about, isn't it? That's what we all want in life--to love and be loved. Sometimes, you have to go through wars before you find love, or love finds you.
Some people reading this post might think I'm being sentimental here. I will say that real love is anything but sentimental. Love is a full-time job, and, like all jobs, there will be really good days and really bad days. I've given up on love quite a few times, but love has never given up on me.
Maybe that's why some people say that God is love. Because love really never gives up on you, even when you're at your worst. If She exists, I imagine God to be just as fiercely stubborn in affection, compassion, and loyalty. God never gives up on you, just like love.
Now, here is the most difficult part of the love equation: you can't really love other people if you don't love yourself. There is no way to accept the devotion of another person if you don't feel like you deserve it. I've done some pretty terrible things in my life. (No, I'm not going to give you an itemized list.) Things that I'm still working through in therapy. I've had to learn to forgive myself, and that has been difficult. Yet, I can't give love to other people if I can't give it to myself.
So, tonight, Saint Marty ends this post with love, for the people in his life, his dog, and himself. He hopes his faithful disciples do the same.
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