Loving One Another Is Difficult When In Pain


Loving One Another

Loving One Another

Although I realize,
that the grandest love knows,
what I can’t possibly show,
as one of my relations,
I can’t help but feel,
that foes have come,
out with my friends,
who mean no ill to me.

Why shouldn’t one
have her glory,
though it shows cold on,
that other one who,
mutely sits,
so delicately with her hands folded?

Why shouldn’t she,
who feels only the cold, covered up in blue,
blankets of shivering,
have some of that warm glow?

I would not know this,
I could never pick up,
from this iced, frozen-over bath,
to go sit with her,
by her toasty fire,
for indeed,
it is a fire that-
cannot be shared

And I,
look desolately over a sea.

People clap and admire,
they nod their heads approvingly.

And I,
so alone sit here,
freezing in my shell,
in isolation.

One man walks by,
giving me a good job,
the empathy in his eyes,
makes me weep inside,
while my hands,
I now sit on,
and I bite my tongue hard.
So badly to they tremble,
in an effort to cling to him in gratitude!

But now, he’s passed.
I am quite mute,
a nothing.
My voice, and all that
once was esteemed,
falls low-
a sagging branch!

I have traveled downward,
like a bramble,
a swallow,
a cat or a dog.

I can be petted for entertainment,
but when my friend gets back up there,
I should seek a blanket.

Never have I felt so . . .

(Part 2)
The Smile

In the sea of their dark, dank clatter,
of paramount joy,
was one beacon,
I shall not forget.

A crossing, a fleeting
a smile gave a single person,
sitting alone in my coldness,
seeking a blanket
or a bit of warmth-
shared he of his fire, for a moment,
I could stroke it.

The eyes of a soft, warm lighthouse.
Eyes that met blankets,
of lids that shadowed,
the inner pain.

The shiver reduced,
cold was melted,
for but an instant,
as the dear man-
shared his fire with me.

(Part 3)
The Victor

My back is proud in my chair,
I warm my feet content.
A smile now graces my own features,
though it be born
of independence,
I can’t not rejoice,
exceedingly glad in my victory,
for, though no one would share theirs,
independence won me mine.

Abandoned am I no longer,
for I always have my Friend-
next to me, that Friend is the best,
of any of the others . . .

and now,
I can sleep finally,
for the cold is banished,
and I am,
undoubtedly the victor.

1 Comment
  1. Avatar of Andrew J. Sacks
    Andrew J. Sacks says

    foxEmerald, well-crafted and fine, sensitive work. Thank you!

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