you sense it grow
and rather would not
look at it too closely,
prefer that it remain
just vaguely powerful
until one day it crystallizes
into a sphere
perfectly polished, brilliant,
but hard to bear alone
you start the search
for one who would be willing
and of worth to share
with you
what weighs you down
while it elates you,
desperately,
at times
you learn that there are few
whom you would gladly have
alleviate your burden
many just want to share
the tiny part
you´d rather keep yourself
others already bear their lot
and, willing though,
could only join you
for a while
love can be a hard thing
in its time