Poems My Grandmother Taught Me

My Love For You

My love for you is not a quiet thing,
Like violets growing in a shaded spot,
Or yet perhaps like summer days when all
Is drenched in sweet serenity. It’s not
At all like peace you find beside a stream
Where you can sit alone and dream a dream.

My love is like the white-tipped ocean waves
That rush and break with force against the sands.
Pulling back her lover to herself
With sweet and tender, but unyielding hands;
Or like a streak of lightning with a flash
Of blinding light that rips through sky and earth.
And oh, it’s like the wild, free reckless wind,
That only God knows of its death or birth.

Can one control the lightning or the wind?
Say to the mad and rushing waves — Be still?
Nor can I in my heart control this love —
Not in this world, or next, nor ever will!

~Dana B. Nelson