The Best Love (a poem)

I know a love from my family, loyal.
Like the puffy white seeds of a mature dandelion,
we are planted where the wind takes us.
But our common roots connect us.
Near or far, often or few —
the best love is ever protected and present.

And I know a love that rolls,
not in calm ripples like the glassy lake,
but ebbing and chopping like the sea.
It pulls in and it pushes away —
this tug of war between me and him.

The smooth lake, wrapped in calm, may appeal —
but easy is rarely worthy.
I'd rather the sea, with its bumpy currents,
challenge and stir.
The best love the fruit of persevering together.

I know a love from my Father, constant.
He sees my ragged and tattered heart
and wants me anyway.
Smoother of my rough edges,
His the perfect, best love —
on which I can steadily rely.

In all of its complexities,
the best love is diversely displayed.
It's my faithful companion in the storm;
my compass as I climb the steep mountains;
a voice of truth when I hear only lies;
And grace when I'm not at my best.

I know a love that flows from my own heart.
To put other's first.
To accept the unacceptable
and forgive the unforgivable.
And a desire to be more then a receiver —
but a free giver of the best love.


Happy Valentine's Day!



Linking today with… Serving Joyfully and Imperfect Prose.