Love is born of grief.

Not the love we seek as consolation

but a Love that  embraces all things –

that does not judge them right or wrong;

a Love that is not locked into a morality

which provides certainty

in an uncertain existence.


Love has to do with

a quality of compassion

and a lightness of being

that comes of letting slip

from one  one’s shoulders

all the expectations

and all the protest-


first the heavy armour,

then the sturdy cloaks,

and finally,

the last soft silks-

garments that have been, for us,

a “No!” to what life has offered.


Poem by Anne Hillman