Love, with a capital L
Life is what happens when you aren’t paying attention. I’m not sure who said that first, since I can’t find an attribution on the Internet. Hey, if I’d said it first, I’d sure want the credit, but that’s just me. Anyway, the phrase keeps floating through my head these days, as I read the poetry posted out here in the blogosphere.
Love (the big one, the capital ‘L’ Love) has always been a favorite focus of poetry. Wanting it, finding it, enjoying it, suffering from it, keeping it, losing it: all are fodder for the poet’s craft. This has been ever so and will continue to be ever more, I suspect. Perhaps it’s because I’m reading more poetry online (and I’m speaking of blogs here, not poetry sites, per se) than I have in the past, but it seems to me that poetic tales of Love are everywhere. Yes, there are also some poems that speak of Life (capital ‘L’ again). I don’t see many that feature the everyday (note the small first letter ‘e’). Actually, I regret that. But I digress.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m rather fond of Love myself. It does make the world go ’round, after all, and is a many-splendored thing. But when people become so focused on the “finding-keeping-losing” thing, I think they may actually be scaring life and real love away.
– to be continued –
Tune in tomorrow. Same time, same channel.
Need help writing Love poems? Here’s a lighthearted lesson from Dr. Marvin Rubdown.