Love does not stop because the loved one dies

Love does not stop because the loved one dies.

   It drowns in grief, and suffers a sea change

Until it sees with more than mortal eyes

   And blossoms into something rich and strange

That plucks the ripest fruits of memory

   And polishes them up until they gleam

And aches for something that can never be

   And makes from emptiness a tempting dream

Just like first love does when the heart is young—

   With yearning and despair—each nerve ignited

With love that bleeds like honey on the tongue—

   Never returned, and yet not unrequited:

A dead seed planted in Life’s darkest hour

That will past death forever bloom and flower.

Copyright 2013 Matthew J Wells