On Love and Foolish Endeavors
The climb to where love dwells has steps carved from the experience that went before,
Because of this, the climb is difficult; illusions alone are not enough to ascend the slippery slopes,
Once the summit is obtained, holding on becomes a survival test in itself,
For imaginings inflict there venom and words become weapons of destruction,
A night of passion yields a day wrought with moments of the past that never worked before,
Mistrust and ego combine with a deadly assault on all one holds sacred,
Secrets shared in passions on the climb, are hurled back with a force no enemy could muster,
It is said to be alone is dangerous, but with self esteem, alone becomes a comfortable pair of old shoes,
No argument is ever won; no battle fought ever-ended battles,
They are but instruments of self-doubt and a lack of courage to let the other’s belief live,
Since childhood we have been girded for battle with false beliefs only to end up old, the victims of our own self-deceit,
The fall from love is neither slow nor with compassion,
What once we cherished becomes an object of longing or hate,
However, whether swift or slow, fall we do and to our own wonder dare to make the climb once again,
Slower perhaps as self doubt absorbs us, till we hear, you’re wonderful, marvelous and I love you with all my heart,
Look carefully, as words are no substitute for experience, but live in hope
As it is what we rise each day for each day
B.R.Guerin 6/28/2002