Of Love, Children and Home (someone asked me if I was naïve, writing so many love poems, I told them, I’ve never been naïve, but remain innocent) children flying out of the school bus, as butterflies in blossom, each with different colored shirts, red, blue, yellow, speckled, carrying bags, backpacks, mothers hurrying to catch up with them, while they fly about in all directions, ah but the mother’s love always catches them the same is true in Princeton, Beirut, Damascus or wherever you are, like love, there is an innocence of these school children, an innocence also of love, there is no thought only to plunge in where you are because you want to go there, as Gibran says, love carries you and you follow it where it takes you sorrow is for those who don’t know how to let go, how to love fully, to hold back when it truly comes, when they have found someone special, but who think there is something better, some other options, when in fact, like the school children they are already safe and happy at home; but unlike the children, they will never know how lucky they are to have someone there waiting, to take them safely and lovingly home © sam hamod, 11.19.14
Posted on: Thu, 20 Nov 2014 04:04:51 +0000
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