February brings love poems in abundance. Poets emerge from winter’s darkness with fresh hope, so says a young poet song writer friend of mine. And there is hope to be found in new love, old love, different love, love of place or pets or food. We are such resilient creatures, loving even when to some eyes we may appear foolish or naïve. We want love to be true in our lives. Our puppy dog kind of loyalty, infatuations, our mistakes, our dreams, give way to love that endures, love with substance. It is our very nature to reach out to give and to receive love; for such holy work we are created. We are never too old, too young, too hurt, too inexperienced to love. Right now. In this moment. Just the way we are. We know how. We must.
“every heart to love will come; but like a refugee . . . .
ring the bells that still can ring,
forget your perfect offering,
there is a crack in everything,
that’s how the Light gets in.”
- Leonard Cohen
copyright 2012 phyllis boernke; except quote from Leonard Cohen
“every heart to love will come; but like a refugee . . . .
ring the bells that still can ring,
forget your perfect offering,
there is a crack in everything,
that’s how the Light gets in.”
- Leonard Cohen
copyright 2012 phyllis boernke; except quote from Leonard Cohen
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