The Question

This is the epilogue excerpted from my e-book of love poems, At First Sight:

The ticking of the clock in my room or the muffled sound of passing cars become so much a part of my world that I rarely notice. The books on the bookshelf hold little treasures and speak secrets of which I am unaware. The clutter of paper in the tray shelter my debts and duties to the world and make statements about where I stand in life. Each thing waits for my attention and calls to me in its own private way while I busy myself in my mind and my life with matters I consider more important.

There is an intimacy with the familiar that I come to take for granted. In fact, intimacy itself naturally leads to taken-for-granted, a taking into myself so deeply and so thoroughly that I no longer recognize the presence of the intimated other. This is why I need to restore myself to the world, to refresh my eyes, to bring my attention back to the moment and build a bridge of heart into my life.

I have the sudden, jolting thought that each of these things left unattended or unused occupy a space reserved for unrequited love and that I have, consequently, created and live in a world of unrequited love. I look around my room and realize how readily I ignore the world of my own making. How can I expect the world outside, or the one I call the beloved, to love me if I do not love the world of my own making?

I look around my room and feel tenderness for things I do love and pity for things that I do not love and do not need. It is time to change my world, to strip the walls of wasted energy, to empty the shelves of heartless things, to toss the boxes and bins of soulless possessions. I fill myself with promise as I ask the beautiful question: what if I built my whole life around love?