There’s love here!
There is love here, she cried,
but no one saw.
It’s brilliant she proclaimed,
but people passed her by.
Why can’t they see it? she whispered,
It’s opening and there’s red inside breaking through the crack in the ugly bristly bud!
Here! she yelled, you see it now?
A few turned but still passed her by.
Suddenly she laughed, It’s okay, she said smiling.
You’re my love,
why would I care if others see your red bud?
You can’t hurry love.
It stood before me struggling.
Like a yellow angel’s light.
I wondered — if touching would bruise it?
Could I help it — unfold it?
It’s yellow wings of light.
Would I be right?
When love is new it’s sometimes tangled,
and it earns its way to open.
It pays its dues of growth.
Then upon the day, the petals reach out,
its life begins a glow.
And if one tried to hurry it,
Less life would it know.
Don’t rush let love grow.
The hardest of hearts – It doesn’t matter at all.
Upon our hearts is an awakening
every time we love.
Doesn’t matter if we’re broken.
Or about baggage we might bear,
We can fear, hate, or not feel at all.
Even build our walls.
Love can sprout – from anywhere!
Notes on how love is blind
- Psychology Today, Aaron Ben-Zeev Ph.D., Love is Blind