“Reflection” © 2022 Rebecca R. Pierce
It is strange to sit in the space of love
And not move,
But sit in it
And feel its three-ringed halo:
Radiant, pulsing, warm—
My love does not feed off yours
But thrives on its own,
An immortal being, multi-winged,
Circling me like I am the moon,
Softly guiding its direction.
When I lay down my guard, my chains fell.
I did not know I had imprisoned myself
With doubt, with fear.
I thought I was a soldier at a post
Warding off threat of harm.
I had wanted to run
But whether toward you or far away,
I did not know.
Running had proved futile.
I ran in a circle until I came back.
You did not notice, you did not give chase,
And I exhausted myself needlessly.
So I sit here, my love,
In silent meditation.
There is no outcome to strive for,
No strands of Fate to weave.
Whether you love me or not
My love exists
My love gently enfolds
The thought of you in my wings.
And you are my moon,
Reflecting back at me.