By: Shelia Packa
Love goes on in spite of the quarrels
in spite of the leavings
broken hearts, rejected rites,
discarded love letters, promises never kept.
Love goes on in face of all its failures,
in spite of the betrayals,
reverse in fortunes,
formidable opponents, competing needs.
Love goes on and on
if not above ground
then under, if not under
then through, if not through
then around, if not around,
then over and over and over
if not you, then another, if not
another,then another.
Love goes on
slips out of our grasp,
travels upon the roads,
falls like rain and fills the rivers,
floods and evaporates only to rain
elsewhere.
Love goes on here and
everywhere
beyond the bodies joining, beyond the climax,
the clasp of hand and mouth
and ribs and limbs.
Love is beyond the kiss and the words,
beyond the darkness and sunrise, the births
of new life and fallowness, of winter.
Love is beyond the pain of it,
the disdain of it,
the stain of it,
beyond the seed that falls, before and after
the rain that splits the seed open,
beside the tendril that lifts its small stem,
goes on to leaf and back to seed.
Love is this circle that we're in,
outside, inside, unsayable, unspeakable,
creator and destroyer. Love, love, love
how grief rises
into dark stars.
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