The Leavings of Love

painting on wool flannel, 6’x6′

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I have found that for me-

Any Love I have ever had the privilege to experience;

Be that in communion with human, animal or mineral

Is still very much alive in me.

If I feel deeply into the variety of ways I have been touched by Love

It seems like I have had my giant Crayola coloring sticks in hand and whatever my beingness needed in all it’s pesky genius unconsciousness  was conjured by me and delicately drawn into form, endowed with hue and tone and particular energy-  all imagined by me.

I interacted with that picture I created until my own needs were met 

And then a great rain washed the markings away leaving the shadow of the thing and either a whiff of the scent of communion

Or maybe the full on perfume.

I don’t desire to see my ex-husband  again in person as I have not the ballast to remain in love with myself around him.

Yet, there is love there still.

I had a mother unskilled at mothering.

Recently, I uncovered the very alive love between us hiding under my unresolved bitter blame and disappointment.

She has passed yet this love has the quality of organic substance; the ocean of which we are a wave; utterly and deliriously neutral.

In my experience..the leavings of Love are immutable…indelible.

I have loved trees and canyons; my ardor these days moves toward a particular globe willow.

It doesn’t feel that different than my love for my friend or good dirt or my own Self.

There is a sense of hierarchy but I’m likely mistaken.

What I speak of is not “happy” love or “joyful” love or really any label-able type what-so-ever.

It just is.

And seems to stay alive in me; either growing or remaining as is.

It  blossoms with attention, intent, reverence. 

Neither a gladiator nor wall-flower..

We are in it, of it,

It.

 

 

comments

2 Responses to “The Leavings of Love”

  1. Jann Your Buddy Tenenbaum on April 30th, 2017

    ….as I have not the ballast to remain in love with myself around him –

    I always have a favorite line in each poem you write. This is the one I like very much today, although there are others. I held my breath as I read this, please don’t let her hurt….
    All that is left to say is….. I love you, my amazing articulate brilliant artist friend.

  2. Dennis Chamberlain on May 4th, 2017

    It’s an honor to read such words of deep unfiltered feeling, and it’s an equal honor to read the poignant reflections upon those words by Jann Tenenbaum above. Bravo to both of you.

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