This is a repeat of one of my more popular poems, republished with a hope of getting a new audience, who might have missed it.
"There's always a road waiting
for one of the lovers to depart."
The saga of love is a play of light and shadow. There is incident, coincidence, an assemblage of adrenalin, a bellowing of blood, a singling out of songs, a resurgence of senses. Love arranges it's own arrivals, often as a storm, frequently as a story, most often as winter sun. It rearranges pa...
This is a repeat of one of my more popular poems, republished with a hope of getting a new audience, who might have missed it.
"There's always a road waiting
for one of the lovers to depart."
The saga of love is a play of light and shadow. There is incident, coincidence, an assemblage of adrenalin, a bellowing of blood, a singling out of songs, a resurgence of senses. Love arranges it's own arrivals, often as a storm, frequently as a story, most often as winter sun. It rearranges parts of our life, it splinters our days in ways that distance hurts - the desire to be, see, touch, smell, immerse, borders on desperation.
For deep inside, every lover knows that embedded in the ecstasy of a love story is it's extinction. Sometimes as slow burn, sometimes as a turn on the road, generally as gentle drift, often as an exercise of getting lost.
And then the helplessness ensues. Compasses point towards the setting sun, the flowers coalesce into routine, the days stop beckoning, sunrises only show autumns. But it is as if it's preordained - just as love is as much a part of life as breathing, separation is it's conjoined twin.
Why does love wither? Where does it go when it's gone? Are there secret burial grounds for love, epitaph-less, unmarked? Is there a floating cemetery of feelings in heaven for lost love - a consideration for the hurt, commiseration for the haunted, a soul for the homeless?
Because the inevitability of drift is in love's DNA, it's loss is in its definition, it's celebration is forever aforetime. But we accept its inevitable tragedy, because our life is governed by its presence, and gets its mojo from its promise.
The journey, in life, or love, then, is everything.
If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems which talk of poignant separations -
- Heartbreak
- Lovers of Broken Mountains
- Fallen Flowers
Find other magical things, like a lovely free chapbook of poems, and other resources here.
Uncut Poetry has started a new Podcast called Red River Sessions (on Spotify, iTunes, Pocket Casts, etc), where we will talk to published poets, about their poetry, their craft and what haunts them. It is brought to you by Red River, which is the premier independent publisher of poetry books, and Uncut Poetry.
I am Sunil Bhandari.
I am a poet based out of India. My book of poetry 'Of Love and Other Abandonments' was an Amazon bestseller. My second book is 'Of Journeys & Other Ways to Get Lost'. Both are available on Amazon.
Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.
Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
The details of the music used in this episode are as follows -
Reaching The Sky [Long Version] by Alexander Nakarada
Link: https://filmmusic.io/song/6222-reaching-the-sky--long-version
License: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
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