There is a love...

There is a love that burns like fireworks.
Bright, explosive, spectacular!
It is fleeting – the holiday affair, the weekend romance, the one night stand.
Knowing it is fleeting makes the whole thing more…
Knowing it is fleeting means not letting it touch too deeply.
Soak it up with Ooh’s and Aah’s.
Enjoy every stolen moment.
Farewell it with smiles and a tear or two.
Let the memories bring a secret smile to the corner of your mouth forever after…

There is a love that burns like paper.
Furious, flaring and hot.
It burns with passion and consumes all – for a time.
And that is the problem.
It consumes all.
You can feed it and feed it and feed it but to continue it always needs so much more.
And when it goes out…
Black ash and a bitter cold, made so much worse by the sudden removal of such intense heat.
If you have made the mistake of coming too close, the burns can be so painful you may doubt your ability to survive them.

And you always come too close.

The burns heal, but leave such scars…

There is a love that burns like wood.
It is not so spectacular.
It may have started with a flare or a tiny spark.
Either way, it settles and grows into something you can move close to.
Something you can sit before and stretch holey sock-covered feet toward in comfortable relaxation.
It may look quiet, dull and even boring compared to a paper fire,
But it is still a fire.
It still burns, and the warmth it gives is strong and lasting and seeps into your bones.
People may not Ooh and Aah as at the fireworks,
But they will come around to sit before it for a while and bask in the warmth,
And then leave with a smile on their hearts, if not on their faces.
It continues to warm long after the flames have gone out,
And often dies only when life itself is gone…

And there is love that burns as a candle.
Intensely personal, it is kept in a dark room in a corner of your heart visited only by you.
It is the unrequited love.
It is the crush never enacted upon.
It is the missed opportunity.
Giving almost no heat at all, it nevertheless spills light on the shrine you have placed it in.
It glints off gold highlights set in a small, ornate box;
A reliquary of memories so old the flesh has worn away and only bare bones remain.
A smile in those deep blue eyes.
A drop of blood on your cracked lip I so wanted to lick off.
Driving lessons, giggles and your hand ruffling my hair…
The burning gives off scents almost forgotten;
A certain perfume.
Green apple shampoo.
That warm smell of baby and citrus you always had…

It shines on a single lock of copper coloured hair…

It is as illusory as fairies at the bottom of the garden, or a gold-paved heaven in the sky.
But the ritual is comforting, in a bittersweet kind of way.
So you continue to visit now and then and pick through the bones, inhale the scents.

And dream the eternal “What if…?” dream…

There is a love...


Mount Duneed, Australia

  • Artist
  • Artwork Comments 6

Artist's Description

Just having a quiet morning at home and got to thinking…..

Artwork Comments

  • Lisa  Jewell
  • jetsta42
  • Jacqueline  Murphy
  • bellmusker
  • PintaPinta
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