"The last is love never fails...
In our generation, it's so frail."
No matter how hard I try,
I'm never going to figure it out, am I?
Passion, people.
People, passion.
Ingredients,
Blamed for failure of the whole.
Spiraling out of control,
On the receiving side of no.
Moment of self reflection,
Removes lie of rejection.
Does love really fail?
Or do we?
Does love burn us so?
Or does passion's inferno?
Swapping tales of heartbreak,
Ask if I've felt the ache.
Yes, as all are due.
Yet so love what came renewed.
Perhaps what we call failure is the cycle,
The natural purpose of this practice.
Ever growing, pain as teacher.
Baring soul necessitates risking failure.
All love is pain and loss...
Some predicted farewell.
Some haunting past.
Maybe that's the point,
The final conundrum.
Love never fails to fail.
If it did, it wouldn't be so profound.
It wouldn't irritate intellectuals,
Or compel poets to ponder.
But remain another simple, fleeting emotion.
Like happy or somber.
Rather, in failing over and over,
Brings out best and worst of lovers.
Demands patience & kindness,
Sacrifice, benefit and trust.
You can't consume or win.
You can't succeed or outperform.
Love is being, endless and incessant.
YOU ARE READING
I CORINTHIANS 13 Series
PoesíaModernized reflection of oft quoted characteristics of love from Paul's first letter to the church in Corinth. What do each of these really mean?
