The world doesn’t want to be saved. It wants to be loved. That’s how you save it.
—Richard Brendan
And isn’t that the way it is—
the truth that opened me yesterday
now puts me in shackles. Whatever
I knew about saving the world
must be lost. Today, the only truth
is the invitation to fall in love
with the world as it is.
Fall in love with the thorn, the sting, the loss,
the ringing in the ears after the shot.
Fall in love with all I’d rather not.
Easier when it’s metaphor. Harder
when it’s wound. Hate. Anger.
Dark snarl of contempt hurled in the face.
Harder when love feels far away.
There’s only one way then to save
the world. How we stand in the middle
of it all, lost. How we love anyway.
Beautiful
So many poems yesterday! I rolled over in bed and started reading them, I get them on my email, so I was scrolling through them one at a time and must have read about twenty before I went back to my inbox to see how many there were and it was flooded! I love getting your poems 😊
Zoe, sorry about that! I was changing their status from private to public. I had no idea that they would all arrive in your inbox as if they were new poems! Sorry! I think there were nearly 100?? Yikes! Thank you for the kind words.