Love (A poem & a letter)

Dear Kenomola,

I am writing this letter because I realised that it is easier to write about the bad than it is to write about the good. I find it interesting, and rather ironic that while good times often fade away, lost in time and sometimes remembered only by the pictures gathering dust in photo albums and phone galleries, the tragedies in our lives often stand tall and need little help to be remembered.

I am in a good place, enjoying a good time. If you have learnt anything from me, then you know that a good place is bereft of travails, but is marked by the presence of peace in spite of trials. I have decided to capture the source of the sweetness of this period in a poem. It is not exactly a happy one, rather it is a reflective one on the few things I have learnt recently.

It is my earnest desire that this source lasts long enough for you to share in it.

All The Things No One Says

No one tells you
That love is a heart exchange
You walk around with the lub-dub of another
Only now, it is no longer muscle
But resilient china.

No one tells you
That love is a cold flame
It burns so hard and so deep
That it engulfs you silently
Until you are gone
Nought but love

No one tells you
That love suffers no distance
And a million miles cannot keep
The sound of your lover’s laughter away
Until you are alone, smiling
At the musical voice that warms your heart

No one tells you
That love is everything
You see it, you feel it
And if you are humble enough
You come to know it.

Kenomola, these are the things that no one says.

Yours lovingly,
Me.