Impossible

It is impossible
to write of love
accurately, completely.

Each poem is simply a facet
of a diamond.
Incomplete. Able to catch light,
but just a bit.

So you write,
again and again.
hoping, eventually
as the facets are cut
and put together just so,
to capture the sun
and scatter light and color
the way you experience it.

A fools game this poetry,
but at times,
it is all you have.

About this poem

I often struggle with feelings. Poetry is my best outlet. My sorting place. Love, the most wonderful of all, is the hardest to capture.

I am fortunate to have that problem.

A poem about love. A poem about faith. Few poems have one meaning.

Tom

PS: The picture is legal stock photography. Not mine.