Loss is a silent companion,
Its cold embrace,
Empty of all that was before
Fits like a black vest,
Forced up to the throat
Clinging in its need to feed.
With no where to go or hide
Since it is in the heart,
The center of life
That the void is felt.
Unrelenting in its lovemaking,
That leads only further down the road of loneliness,
Where all fears are felt to be true,
In a place that is shorn of all color or vibrancy.
To dare love is to invite this intimate other into ones life.
A price is to be paid for love,
Be it for a mate,
A bill well worth the price.
Since without love all of life would be a cold artic wasteland,
Inhabited by those dead but who do not yet know it.
The wound heals
Slowly over time,
Without it how can wholeness occur?
There is only stagnation for those who allow fear to rule them.
Fear of pain,
Exacts a higher price than love does,
It is just felt in smaller doses
Over an empty and bleak life
That seems to go on forever no matter how short it really is.
It is better to seek and not find,
Than not to have sought at all.
The seeking without despair no matter what the pain,
Enlivens the soul as it makes it journey towards its destiny,
Where what we seek waits.