The beauty of love
It has always strummed; my heart made me dream, allowed me to float, made my eyes twitch,made me see colours that are not there, made me believe I can fly. This is love. Always when I see two people in love, I always look at them fondly, remember my youth, smile in contentment as I walk past them and chuckle if I am alone. We were once there, where we could not sleep, where we could not stay awake without a flutter. I have written about love especially in my poems because that it is where it is easier to describe the pain of distance, the softness of touch, the heartbreak of love and the general craziness of it all. It has to be an illness when you are in love and just following someone around. You are sick when they are away, sick when they are there, unable to manage yourself in between. My poem “I miss you when it rains” from my first poetry book Don’t look at me like that captures it for all those in love.
I miss you when it rains
when the skies drip wet with tears
and the chill sets sail
and everyone speaks animately
through windscreens and glazed glass
through muddy, muddy days
I miss you when it rains
I miss you when I am sick
All those mushed up aches
My back,my feet, my head
The sinking feeling within
The cloudy thoughts in my heart
The pom-pom sounds in my chest
The butterflies on my window
The absence of touch
Backslaps and head throwing laughter
Everything loses flavour
I miss you when I am sick
I miss you when I eat
Nibbling at food in absentia
The gravy dull in every taste
The rice a fake grain in transit
The drinks a tall distant echo
Everyone in slow-slow motion
The music too loud for comfort
I miss you…
I nibble
I wobble
I nestle
Its the absence of you
All those horrible sounds at night…
I miss you…
In addition to all of this love within families is all gorgeousness. The love between a father and a daughter and between a mum and her son. The beauty is just so touching, the look, the selflessness, the sacrifice, the love. But when love’s beauty wanes, the line between that esoteric place of love and hate is almost blurred. The dissatisfaction, the bile is unimaginable. One looks at previous lovers in a fight and one wonders if they were ever in love at all. My continuous search to understand the human condition has led me to the most incredible knowledge from books to films and programmes where crimes of passion have been committed in the most bizarre way. A woman poisons her husband slowly to death with arsenic, a man kills his wives, wife number 1, wife number 2 in order to claim insurance. A man kills a girl because she has told him she is already in love with another. A boy high on drugs kills his mother because she denied him money which he is convinced she has. In the end, love soured is love lost, love’s beauty diminishes and other things fill the void. A place we must never go. If you love something, you are meant to forgive the shortcomings of the person you love, elevate the beauty of love and be happy with the strengths and gorgeous bits of the person. The bible verse about love is my favourite of all times. 1 corinthians 13 vs 4-8
Love is patient, love is kind.
It does not envy,it does not boast, it is not proud.
It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.
In the end everyone deserves to have fallen in love at least once in one’s lifetime. The tingling of the fingers, the sleepless nights, the way a room becomes smaller when he/she is in there, the way everyone else disappears in their presence, the longing, how we hang on the person’s every word and the pain of heartbreak which is a near death experience.
Love is beautiful, between lovers, between family members and must be grown, supported by both parties. It should not be given by only one party. It should be shared. A wife cannot be giving love without the husband, and a husband cannot give love without the wife reciprocating. Love conquers all things. Wars are the result of failed or soured love. Lets make things beautiful again. Love is everything.
Eugenia Abu