like the look a mother has on seeing her baby?
Or the (lies) promises made by one,
to keep the lover 10000 miles apart on her feet?
Is it piercing your chest with needles to write her name?
blood oozing, pain searing, face wincing,
Or a soft tender peck planted,
no violence, no pain, just taking you to the edge of your seat.
Is it saying out loud, with a ring worth a gazillion,
in front of a crowd of 6 billion witnesses, like a prince?
Or just that sly wink,
so sneaky, not another soul in it.
Is it taking her out on a rich dinner,
wine and dessert and all?
Or the dry bread a dog steals,
for her puppies to get their daily bit.
Is it at first sight?
ignorant, foolish, blind, unquestioned?
Or the many questions answered by a girls father,
so that he can get his daughter married?
Is it trustworthy?
Like the aging 90 year old couple still in wedlock?
Or is it ever changing?
Cause who has the control over the feelings carried?
Is it for eternity?
Like the patriot whose name is etched on the walls of the struggle?
Or is it just in the moment?
Like so many claim on the morning after.
Does it have to have a name?
marriage, baby, affair, or just a Friday night?
Or can it be anonymous?
with no recollection whatsoever, and which doesn’t even matter, right?
Does it have to be between two?
a sport, a lover, a fighter?
Or is it more complicated,
triangle, family, religion, country, friends?
Can it just be with the animate?
Hearts beating, minds talking, warmth flowing.
Or can it be with the lifeless,
like with Ben Franklin and the lightening.
So simple, so many forms, seen everywhere,
Yet one of the most complex feelings to ever define, even in sentences long.
No wonder many fall, stutter, stumble, fail,
while claiming they knew it so clearly all along.
