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