I stand in
the night and stare up at a lone star, wondering what love means. You whisper your desire—do I love you? I dare say yes. But my eyes drift back to that solitary star;
my mind is plagued with intimate uncertainty.
What art
thou, Love? Tell me.
I
contemplate what I know—the qualities love doth not possess. Love lifts no
cruel or unkind hand, for it seeketh no harm.
It shirks from constraints and demands, for tyranny is not love. A boisterous voice never crosses love’s lips,
for to speak with thunder chases its very presence from the heart. Love inflicts no pain, no fear, no misery,
but conquers all such foes. It is said
love is not selfish, yet it does not guilt those who are. On a heart unwillingly given it stakes no
claim. Love is nothing from Pandora’s
box; it is no evil, sin, or sorrow unleashed on this world.
My eyes
glimmer as the star I gaze upon twinkles with brightness I do not possess. I recognize my smallness—my ignorance of the
One whose hands placed that star in the heavens for me.
He is
love. By His own mouth He proclaimed
it.
Again the
whispered question hits my ear—do I love you?
I dare say yes. But my eyes
squint tight, wishing on a lonely star, wondering what love means.
— Richelle E. Goodrich, Smile Anyway
Copyright © 2013 Richelle E. Goodrich
