You Who Turn From Love

A poem that calls upon us to find patience for those things that we would rush.

You who turn from love in pain,

turn gently: heed the softer counsels of the world.

As a slender branch whips back

from the weight of so many ravens;

as the tulip wilts for moisture in the heat

to stand once more within the glistening dew,

rejuvenation whispers,

as subtle as the snowflakes meagre shadow.

You who turn from love in pain,

turn kindly: seek the tender cycles of the world.

The winter greets with joy-flung arms

the first fog's slow return, and so the moon

shall know its lover's face, the sun sinks

without quarrel. Spring dances without clothes

as Autumn looks on, waiting, and neither

will depart the grand design.

You who turn from love in pain,

turn slowly: nothing exists but purpose,

and the born to love must love

although the season's on the wane,

just as the quiet swan floats upon the lake

and the heron wades the shallows,

though the fickle water's edge subsides, and rises

and recedes.

Jé Maverick