Moments
poem about apologizing to the one you love.
all of my heart is wrapped around you
kisses and wishes of you have come true
I love the moments, like holding your hand
laying sweet kisses while both of us stand
saying I love you almost every night
falling asleep, holding you tight
flowers in life, they’ll come and they’ll go
dying away, letting nobody know
you're the flower I’ll forever keep
in distance and closeness
your roots have set deep
tangled my heart, holding it tight
I love you, my flower
forget that we fight
...
Have you ever fought with the one you love, and the moment you realize that you are in the wrong, a moment of humbling needs to happen? In this moment, you can feel all the emotions of why you love this person and from there, you can work toward making it right. The picture I used for this poem is one that reminds me of late evenings when an argument may have unfolded between me and my love. I find myself going for a walk, clearing my head, and working to find the right words to humble myself to make it right.
About the Creator
Nagoh Creative (Greg)
Writer, Poet, Astronomer, Photographer & Encourager. I am on a road of life recovery and sharing my journey with words and art. Most importantly, I am a forgiven Child of God, Husband, Father, & friend. All work is my own, & God's Glory.
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making space
Since the only thing that might pull us back up is caring, it only makes sense that here, long after I’ve let my anger born of heartbreak and grief misplace, multiply, misdirect itself, let the enormity of my solitude turn into something I don’t know how to dispute with, something thick and heavy and suffocating, let the coldness thrash and fight under my skin, deeper still, in between the arches of my organs; here where the ground is always close and the fall is easy and I surrender to it often, lie without purpose for hours, it only makes sense that it is here, I decide to show up and surrender to the possibilities of the night. Show up to those who I deserted. Drawn to the sense of accomplishment, something I haven’t felt in a while, to memory of finished dish sending its aroma into the world and with it, wrapping the room with a strong sense of sweet nostalgia, I get up and decide to cook. I pick up my phone, type a message that reads “Dinner at mine @ 8PM, don’t bring anything” and before my courage deserts me again, drop it in our friends’ group chat, the way one would do when diffusing a bomb in the movies: one eye closed, snip at the wire, hoping for the best.
By Mesh Toraskar7 days ago in Feast
Comments (1)
I feel the best way to get through an argument is by talking it out honestly and listening what the other has to say. Loves both your photo and your poem