I will not write about love
for I am not in it –
surely, yes, I have
but as though an introductory,
sweeping strum of a harp,
I won’t allow myself to fall
into a moment,
until it is right to do so;
I’m like an anacrusis awaiting that
the downbeat for the melody to start.
Am I waiting, awaiting?
Will time cause me to fall apart? –
I’m not yielding to an urge,
I am not capitulating,
I have no requirements to search for affection,
why put myself in the way of
judgement and expectations?
No, I do not fear these,
but for some,
they’re surely breaking the ability
for true connections,
halting their ability to reach out
Here, I sit on the fence,
and I know I won’t allow myself
until it is right to do so again,
I don’t need the sweetness of
words from either a woman or a man,
don’t need the positive growth that
an alliance could provide, would or can,
I am loving my life the way it is,
I won’t be swayed by society’s requirements
that I must couple up to be.
do they think I have no end in sight?
While I live and I learn,
do they think my early evenings translate to
quiet depressive nights?
That being single means bunkering down
unsatisfied, until the morning light,
where I can receive my endorphins through
pounding the pavement,
where satisfaction and happiness
are experienced again,
they are within grasp,
I don’t need love to be whole,
don’t need it to feel ‘right’,
I can exist by myself,
being independent is no longer a plight,
to be alone can be bliss,
I’ll take the peaceful solitude
as it is,
and so I’ll continue to grow,
and fastidiously enjoy all that life brings.
© 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay