The Wisdom of Love

A lyrical exploration of what it means to love deeply in a world without guarantees. Far from fairy tale endings or scripted certainty, this poem embraces love as a journey through doubt, longing, silence, and resilience. It speaks to those who choose connection even when the road shifts beneath them, who keep walking even without knowing why. With gentle vulnerability and quiet strength, the verses reflect the beauty of unfinished emotions, the courage to feel without resolution, and the simple truth that love’s greatest wisdom may lie in living it fully, fearlessly, and without needing it to be whole.
At times, this piece might sound contradicting but only because love itself is. It is a paradox of holding on and letting go, of giving completely while never being certain. The contradictions aren’t flaws; they are reflections of love’s truest shape.

Of course, the natural end goal of any meaningful relationship is marriage. But this poem lives in the space before that certainty. It honors the fragile, beautiful process of getting there, the quiet work of holding on, the ache of not knowing, and the strength it takes to love without guarantees.
The opening verse was influenced by the work of a known Arabic poet whose writing continues to shape how love is imagined and expressed.

04/07/2025-7:01PM

Love is not an Eastern tale
Where heroes wed at the final scene
It is the voyage through uncertain nights,
Where every step begins with what has been unseen.

It is the soul that trembles under sorrow,
And melts in silence, with no words between.
To love is not to see our love as whole
But in the flicker of light lost in the in between.

It is to sleep, then wake to the unknown,
With nothing clear, yet still you choose to try.
To walk a road that shifts beneath your feet,
And keep on walking even without knowing why.

Love is to cry, and call your tears a feast,
To walk a road that knows no rule.
To be led by steps that never end,
Toward a confession helpless, mute, and full.

To shake the hand that tears your voice apart,
And whisper, "This is love, in full."
To sing of longing in its quiet,
And light a festival in its unraveling lull.

It is to struggle just to flee from love,
While your heart, unwilling, starts to fall.
To see their face within the distance,
And die into the arms of nothing at all.

It is to start again, again,
Despite the losses no one can recall.
To hold the one who fractures all your pulses,
And watch their shadow rise in every wall.

It is to be the sadness without pride,
To fall for smiles that never call.
To tire your longing hands with empty space,
And drown in perfume you never touched at all.

To love with every shattered piece,
And still be called the one who's whole.
To plant emotion in the drought,
And bloom from ash a bashful soul.

To never label what you feel,
And live within a nameless role.
To hold the answers deep inside their eyes,
And choose despite the truth not to be whole.