Acceptance

Some would say that love is for joy

and when it stops being about joy,

it ceases being love.

But I say, “Love is for itself.”

It gives and takes, caresses and abuses.

It is the disease and remedy.

We must swallow the prescribed medicine,

because refusal is madness,

acceptance the cure.

You may ask, “How I know?”

We had a child

who filled a room with love and laughter

and now she is gone.

Longing, sadness, words unsaid

fill the emptiness she once occupied.

Pull on a Cloak Love,

feel about in its folds and pockets,

find sweet candies, bright baubles,

the dagger that severs gristle and bone.

6-10-26