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Love

Love

Love is not fresh flowers in Spring

Neither is it sunshine

It is the pulse of life that brings rain,

The beat of music, even dissonant

Fairer days than this have passed me

Thunder extracts a courage

Trial, a summoning

Of all that is good in me

Only the child expects an unearned gift

Life is taxing

Extracting our best, even in shadow

Love demands, love teaches

I am the sum of my sorrow

Accepting pain

That, bettered, I may know myself

And be, triumphant at last

The gifts of love are hard

But they are true

That I retain dignity

Honor in every day

Only the tested can give

Richer, fuller, wiser

I will not reject love’s gift

For it is mine

Amy L Maris 1/16/2020

Author:

Artistic specialist, wonderer, idea maven, mom of four, and two more. Words and notes are my media of choice.

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