What more a heart wants,
the less it recognizes what it possesses,
and lost it may become, for in pursuit
it may lose all it has, for an unknown measure.
In reality love is no measure at all,
yet what we glean from it, is
the collective of our lives in physical manifestation,
and letting it sour for lack of maintenance,
an indication of blindness, ambivalence.
Viewing life in any quantitative measure is shallow,
and where love is concerned a travesty,
for without love there is no purpose,
just accumulations of physical wants,
paled in insignificance, when compared to love.
Yet one love fades as another is found,
like a roulette wheel of sorts,
a gambling that this love
will somehow transcend all those lost,
and be perfect in your eyes: an impossible feat.
Love is not a tinsel enticement,
no mystery at all, just acceptance and hard work
to maintain its ideal on reality’s stage,
and boredom, ambivalence and libido
just personal issues, not of a relationship.
Perfect unions come about
when two whole people decide to be together,
and will fight for each other
to glean the best life they can in love’s purpose and expression,
always in selfless care and kindness.
Tony DeLorger © 2016
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