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An Old Poem

This poem was written live on the web under my user name atrexs61. That was my user name I used while writing on a Natlie Portman fan club website.

Is Love absolute ?
Aha, I sense a poem in the making.
Is Love Absolute ?
How can we describe love ?
Is love something that can be weighed and measured.
Can love be be tallied on a calculator ?
Is love something we can have now, and also count on later ?
If we have love now, is it not something to be forever treasured ?
How can we compare our love ?
Is it better to have the love of a woman, than the love of a child ?
Is love better, if it is strong, and wild ?
Or is love just as good, if it is tame and mild ?
For if I love you, does it mean that you must love me back ?
If you don't love me now, can that change, or must I always suffer from the lack ?
When I feel love pierce my heart should I persue the one I love, and never stray from that track ?

For if I don't use my love now, will I ever get it back ?
No, I say love is not something to be captured in a sack ?

It hits us when we dont expect it, like an arrow shot through our back ?
For some love is something that must be proved.
Once love has got us, it is not easily removed
When we seek out love it is often never to be found ?
Love gets tired when we are always re-covering the same old ground.

New love burns brightly, like a candle when it is first lit.
Mature love glows warmly when two souls together fit
The love of a child, or sister or brother,
is assumed, and counted on, and expected to never vary.
These loves, and the love between a man and a woman,
can not be exchanged nor substituted one for one another.
The flame of new love may burn its very wax too quickly, when its so hot.
Seasoned love may glow only dimly at first, it may grow, then again maybe not.
How to know which flame to avoid, and which flame to persue ?
Love like the wind arrives unseen,
its effects only visible by observing what it stirs.
Does the new love feel confortable, like a place we have already been.
Do we feel contented, like a cat when it purrs
Love like a dangerous storm, may stike you with its lightning.
The experience feels great, at the same time scary, and frightening.
When the storm dies down, are we still together ?
Will we find each other soft and supple, like well worn leather ?

Let us not, use our heads, when our hearts beat together.

Copyright February 2nd 2002. Do not use or duplicate without the author's express written permission. If you would like permission to use or duplicate this poem please contact the authur at the e-mail address available through this system.
Aharon Moshe (Stephen) Sanders
Reposted to my own site June 26, 2008
old email:

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At one time all these things seemed important enough to write down.