The Boxer
Love is a tricky devil
sometimes masquerading
as the perfect mate
But when the mask falls
all we see is the dear
scared face of our loved one
and we must ask ourselves
how we ever expected
someone else
to meet all the needs
within our vast
and complicated soul
Other times
love plays dress up
with our hearts
as our children
wrap their sequined arms around us
and we button up their cares
But all too soon
they outgrow our ministrations
and we must open our arms
and give them back
to themselves
Love takes us in its arms
and dances us round mercilessly
till we realize we’re not in a ballroom
but a boxing ring
being knocked down in each round
It is only when we throw ourselves
at our opponent
in a headlock of connection
that our love is transformed
Then we remove our gloves
and bow our head
For we have heard
our opponent’s heartbeat
It is our own Beloved
and as we open to the Sound
its resounding thrum becomes our own