What is it like to be in love? Pure, deep, nourishing, healing, powerful love? You know, the kind of love only possible in dreams, the kind we read about in Kathleen Woodiwiss novels, the same amore penned by the greats: the Amy Lowells and the Emily Dickinsons.
A love that bounds into one’s life quite unexpectedly, lassoing one’s heart with sweet restraint.
Everything changes in the eyes of love. Corny, goofy moments transform into personally historical, significant and profound seconds and minutes and hours and days. Songs become impactful outpourings from an exotic and subconscious plane. Dreams nudge reality with the promise of truth and endurance. We do not explore the possibility of a broken heart; not when that heart is saturated with divine reinforcement. We remain intoxicated with hope, purpose, and fulfillment. Our greatest discovery during this journey is the stark and sacred realization that falling in love has no regard for and no concept of age.
If this writing is somehow unrealistic, fanciful, and fairytale-like, then my pen stands surefooted before you, dear friends. I am guilty as charged. We think of Valentine’s Day as a superficial, money-making, plastic holiday that reaps money and often false declarations of adoration. One day of the year is flooded with chocolate, lavish dinners and wine. Some of us balk at the pink commercialization of something so very personal. Others, myself included, encourage this soft day and dance in the glow of endearment, regardless of the motivation.
We can choose to center upon the made-up holiday perspective or we can drink from the chalice of opportunity to enhance an emotion that all too often lies dormant and taken for granted. In my world, I welcome this unbridled chance to focus on all varieties of love. In my world, there is no harm in enhancing the one thing that most likely redeems the planet: love.
And so, I go on my way, grateful for all of the loves deep in my soul. On February 14, we reach out, with rose in hand, and remind ourselves that despite the injustice and an unsettled world we wander through, love abounds. Love survives. Love does indeed conquer all.
Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone. Please stay safe and remember to be kind.
My Poem of Love
What is this thing that has taken over my life?
I cannot eat.
I cannot drink.
I cannot think.
I hear only quiet whisperings and sighs.
I see only gentle hands
That need to be held with no intention
Of holding back.
Will this thing last
Or sizzle out like a tear drenched flame
That crackles loudly
And then abandons me in a cloudy light?
Regardless, I will savor each and every second
For there is nothing sweeter than
This sensation; this honor; this moment.
This love.
Belinda Ouellette lives in Caribou with her Goldendoodle, Barney. You may email her at belindaouellette9@gmail.com.
