Real love

 

Real love will be like water,--

flowing, cleansing, fresh,

It will softly brace you,

Give a very gentle touch,

It won’t hit you,

It will be around you,

It won’t try to barge into you,

It’s there to keep you afloat,

not drown you,

If you drown that’s due to your own

gasping fears and insecurities,

If you are open and give it space,

it will spread like a translucent sheet

as long as you have space in your heart,

where stars, sky, moon, clouds

will see how they look,

You will turn their mirror,

If you turn narrow like a gorge,

it will rush past with noise and fury,

It will rasp against your stony walls,--

not to break them

but to slowly make you realize

that these stony cliffs imprison you;

that actually these are what causes

this torrential roar in the flow of your life,

It shakes your precipitous slopes

to gently remind them the futility of

standing too rigid and haughty,

It doesn’t try to attack or change you,

It just keeps with its gentle, wavy reminders

until one fine day

the steep slope of your rigidity melts

and falls into the stream by itself,

It doesn’t try to push you out of its way

if the boulder of arrogance and conditioning

comes across its way,

It just flows past and around you,

Not leaving you alone

but always kissing your hard outer shell,

making you first mossy, round

and then you roll and flow

and settle with the painless bed of sand

it has prepared for you to rest.

That’s real love,

It’ll be always there

in one form or other

like water, vapor or snow,

It will save you from hate,

She may no longer the princess of your dreams,

or he your prince charming

but you will still have enough reasons

to smile sometimes

far away in time and space.