Crawling Hearts

 

By Cheryl Owen-Wilson

It’s February, a month where we are inundated with the all too consuming concept of romantic love.  I’ve shared previously in this blog that when I’ve attempted to write straight Hallmark movie stories I fail miserably.  Inevitably, someone dies!  Please don’t misunderstand. I do believe in love and all it entails, but I also understand how much pain an unrealistic Hollywood colored love creates. So I thought I’d share my idea of a love poem.  I chose this poem in particular, because it was the first poem to create a vision in my mind for its very own painting.  Happy Valentine’s Day Y’all!

Crawling hearts skitter across my floor.

Their breath beats like thunder, as they shout—”Forevermore”

Their tendrils reach out, seeking to find,

a love that does not bind,

yet, is intricately intertwined.

A love, that knows its own soul,

without taking a heavy, breaking toll.

A love, that will last beyond this world,

taking into each day, a hope, easily unfurled.

Crawling hearts skitter across my floor.

Through their long search, they came knocking at — My door.

“Tell us, does it exist?”

Their pleading whisper, brushes my face, with a warm mist.

“Tell us, will we find that one to connect to?

That one who will forevermore, be true?”

“That one, who will bring us happiness,

as we revel in loves undying, sweet bliss?”

“That one, who will make us complete,

as we dance to the rhythm of our own heart’s beat?”

“That one, who when the long day is done,

will wrap us in their arms, as we watch the setting sun?”

Crawling hearts skitter across my floor,

disconnected bodies, searching forevermore.

They search for answers to questions as old as the Universe.

Questions, that for centuries they have rehearsed.

“Where do our answers hide?”

“Has true love really died?”

I reach deep within—my own heart,

for words of wisdom to impart.

My reply is simple but true.

“To find the love you seek, you must first love, YOU.”

“For how can we offer this great gift to another?

When our very own heart, has yet to be our lover?”

Crawling hearts skitter across my floor,

seeking to escape my simple metaphor.

 

What are your favorite love poems?

Crawling Hearts

“Crawling Hearts” an original painting by Cheryl Owen-Wilson

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