Love has a gentle grace
by Michael R. Burch

for Beth on Mother’s Day

Love has a gentle grace; you have not seen her
unless you’ve looked into your mother’s eyes
and seen her faith
—serene, composed and wise—
that you’re the center of her very being
(as once, indeed, she carried you inside.)

Love has no wilder beauty than the thought
that you’re the best of all she ever sought.

(And if, perhaps, you don’t believe my song,
can your mother be wrong?)

What if there was no rush?
Only an infinity of time
To discover the world
And all you could do.
But that is simply not true.
We all head to our grave
Minute by passing minute
Year by passing year
Just because this is so,
Is it wise to rush?
Or wiser to take your time
And let your roots grow deep
Soaking in the richness
Of an Earth that has seen many generations.
It is only then we truly live
And not drift like dead wood
Afloat a windy river
That leads to a long drop over a waterfall.
Let's establish ourselves,
And become a true part
Of this magical world.
Fashion yourself into this work of art.
Engrave your essence into the bedrock of history.
Don't allow the wind of this generation
To disanchor your heart.
Let your grip tighten
Into the realms of future and past
For they can be easily forgotten
Among the nagging realities of today
And the constant worries of the present week.
Are we allowed to drop the shallow,
And explore the deep waters?
The unknown exists.
It welcomes the rarest souls
Into its hidden chambers.
But who dares to go there?
Who cares to go there
When the colourful attractions
Of previous discovery shine all around you?
Convenience the wall that guards the masses
From the hidden worlds that lay beneath.

If I do have wisdom,
Why can’t I recognize?
And if I don’t know that it’s wisdom,
Well... am I even wise?

If someone were to leave me...

I would still breathe.

I'm sure you'd think I would sob,

When really I don't have the time for it at all.



When I'm done, I'm done.



Know that I won't change, and I'm not sorry for who I am or what I said.

Sometimes you need to hear words that aren't your own.



I can be aggressive.

I can be weak.

I can be wise.



These are the things in which makes me strong.

I've started to find out how to despise.



I try and try; now it all sounds like a rhyme.

My brain is fried and this is what I write.

So, if you leave now, I think I'd be alright.

Love seldom comes once
It comes and goes
The way the stars kiss the ocean
Times without number

When young I believed that age and wisdom travelled hand in hand.
But as I grew much older I began to understand.
That what I had thought of as one of nature's golden rules.
In truth it is that as you get older, you just find much older fools.

She be evergreen
Her roots run deep
Age made wise
from a tactful mind
Fair with auburn hair
Soft spoken and polite
Forthright hands on
Still standing strong
and not yet peaked