Love is a Verb

Love is a verb.*

Ah, love is a noun,
you fell in love.
You sat on it,
wrapped yourself in it.
At first it’s all-enveloping and luscious,
you are lost in it, wading with wanton strokes,
head first, diving and dipping,
barely coming up for air.

Then you wake up one morning,
and the blankets have been stripped away.
You feel the drafty rawness,
the other side of the bed is cold and vacant.
Maybe he got up early.
Maybe he left?

Love is a verb.
You wake up to the cold.
Your head is not awash with passion,
but worn, honed with routine.
You mutter a sweet word,
despite the cranky cloudy weather,
you make him coffee,
you kiss him on the cheek.
Each, a conscious effort.

The effort is constant,
but, then, it’s pleasant.
You remember the passion,
and you are strong with the loving,
with each little act of loving.
The heat has faded but you create your own warmth,
blowing every day on those sparks,
barely coming up for air.

* * * * *

*The inspiration for this comes from rather an odd place...from the book "The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People." At some point in the book he talks about marriage and about how you have to always work on it, you have to always love actively, not just expect love to be there.