Just one

How many loves to fill a heart?

Many, perhaps, or just one at the end?

Love for a mother’s smile, golden in childhood,

Unbroken illusion of happiness

That persists in memory.

The love of a first kiss, delicate, tremulous,

Mingling fear and excitement in awkward embrace

And discovered delight.

The love of a lifetime, dreamed in confetti, veiled in lace,

Sparkling like the diamond on its finger

In the moonlight.

Or love conceived,

Silent miracle that grows in silence,

Born to be loved, and growing in laughter

Drying tears in your hair even when he has to bow down

Just to reach.

Then the love of a friend,

With whom you share joy and run to in pain

And shared trust, without barriers.

Or the loves who are lost,

Heart aching absence, the unending counterpoint

That shadows joy… the heart’s chiaroscuro.

Or loves we are losing,

The vision of absence glazes each day

With future pain, while the soul keens softly.

How many loves to fill a heart?

Many, I think…or just one.

The love of Life despite present pain

Or future grief, regardless of memory

Dark or bright.

Embracing the sadness and the joy

That make us whole and tears us apart

Rebuilding us in Light.

How many loves to fill a heart?

To make it overflow with joy

And break it ceaselessly with recurring pain,

Healing it with laughter and a gentle smile?

Just One.