We all have relationships. Some are short lived, some sweet, some simple, some harsh. Yet others are long-term. I’m still not so sure which is better, save to say, “To each, his own.”
Perhaps, most of us were not meant to have long term relationships. And yet, we pursue them like the newly converted zealots, only to suffer, often after years and years, of having danced in the same concentric, and ever reducing circles, until our lives and our remaining time has diminished beyond where we ever intended.
I already know I am capable of long-term commitment. I wonder, though, if it was all based upon short sighted vison; upon a world that really never existed, a fairy-tale, a television show from the era before color TV’s. Commitment. I’ve given a lot of thought about that word, and its many connotations. It may be the ever elastic thread that binds a loving relationship over the miles or the years, or it may be, with thirteen turns, the rope than hangs us. Unfortunately, the coin of the realm is not measured in precious metals, but rather, in the most precious commodoty we humans have…Time. We’re only given so much, and no-one really knows exactly how much that will be. Time. Make the best of it. Forget the wastefulness and disregard we have for such a commodity, rather than the value and respect it deserves.
For each of us must come to know themselves. Those of us lucky enough to have the vision before our time is gone might well determine, clear of thought, what is best for ourselves. What am I, today? Happy with the short and sweet in life, or committed to its bitter end? These reflections are what gave birth to this poem:
Remember When Love Was New…
…and bodies and minds had sex and love
all jumbled up together,
as if one were symbiotic to the other?
Remember when love was new,
and we went to bed naked,
woke up naked,
Sometimes it might have been
one of either
a blessing or a curse.
In the name of children,
we hid our nakedness
akin to those before us
in the garden
who suffered the awakening.
Should have stayed stupid.
Should have shunned that tree of knowledge.
But then, we’d be no more than animals.
Ta dump dump.
Remember when the feel of clean sheets
against naked skin was enough to
have us start the dance.
And dance some more in the naked
mornings that followed.
We are naked. No matter how we
dress our lives, we arrive, and leave
with nothing. Naked.
Some of us struggle just to stay warm.
Others of us are always in heat.
Sometimes, we are frigid in our nakedness,
fruitless despite the dance.
Remember when love was new?
Do you still go to bed naked,
only to sleep?
Ah, but dream.
Dream in your nakedness
and I shall know you.
I shall search for you.
And beware, my love,
for I shall find you.
And though I may be chilled
in this age of mine
I will arrive naked, and warm you.
16 – July – 2013
I’d really like to know your thoughts; are we meant to be together with another, exclusively, until death parts us? Do we WANT to, despite what that might entail? When we take a vow of marriage, is it to GOD, or to our loved one we vow? I have my own perspectives, and yet, life often encompases within one place, a paradox.