Tamara Willems

to me with love…

The ridiculousness of romantic love
is that one should hope to always be
in
it
of it, or magically and continuously
showered
with it
the idea that someone else should be
so in tuned as to always know
exactly
what it is we need
we as humans don’t actually work this way
not at least.. every minute
we, each of us, have demands, worries, doubts, fears
we have insecurities, preoccupations
daydreams and muses
we overlook, we underestimate
we un-appreciate
the cultivation of great love
is in recognizing that we
are already it
we are the love we seek
it is in us and we are made of it
add to this an attitude of grateful living
and we are set
for sunshine
however,  there is a reason
this
is called a practice…

I myself am in love
with love
with romantic love
not in overt mush, not in a glossy manufactured
artificial ‘look at us’ kind of love
but in real, ordinary, every day
head-over-heels kind of love
where love and kindness are freely given
and openly
received
do we accomplish this everyday,
probably not
as mentioned, none of us are so very
perfect
even if we know love, it is still nice to
hear
to know, to be appreciated
recognized,
noticed
but it begins always, with us
if we centre ourselves in the flow
of love
we know then, where to rest

today I’m sitting
in the garden,  I have not wandered much
my husband has been sniping and pulling
tidying, 
things I don’t do well
to me if you are green and flourishing
you are most welcome
to stay
also today,
I am tired and sore
hands
are stiff,
pollen count is high, allergies are ick
garden chair is waiting,
contemplating
solitude
I am watching and listening
the sun is warm, and the breeze is gentle
toads are floating in the pond
and hopping
across the path
the fish beautifully bright and vibrant
dragonflies and butterflies
and bees
the ferns, almost as tall as me
make a swish when one pushes past
snowballs at their peak
roses beginning bud’s starting to hint
at colours of joy
the sound of doves wings on take off
light through leaves
the cardinal, and the wren
even the sound of lawnmowers, an airplane
a distant siren
fade to a soft rhythm
undisturbed
clouds drift
I am
quiet,
I am gratitude,
I am my breath,
I am the warmth of my skin
I am sifting through thoughts
and actively offering
kindness

when I am feeling the need
I put out a verbal request for romance
(to my husband, yes.. )
in my garden
the response I receive
is for me… pure love
kind, gentle
warm, soft, vibrant
nurturing, restorative, alive
responsive
wild, unencumbered and
beautiful, always
free

this then,
is where I
begin

to me
with love ♥

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