The Ages and Stages of Love
by Marjorie H Morgan
Are you sitting comfortably?
Then we’ll begin …
Let us travel together,
into a journey of love.
Before the beginning
there was love
there was love
before the beginning
Love is
difficult to define
love is
impossible to confine
love is
not easy to recognise
love is
love is
a mysterious prize
Love is
tailor made
it needs no accolade
but
careful you don’t fall
as
one size does not fit all
It starts with a look
or
it starts with a touch
or
it starts when a butter-fly
unexpectedly makes you sigh
as it tickles the insides
of all your parts
that are connected
to your heart
Love, oh love,
joyous love
is sometimes splintered
and crushed
when greed breaks into your sealed world
and
without warning
chains you down
labels you
property
and buries you in the belly of the ship
carrying you
across oceans
to be
to be
or not to be
with or
without the cause
and the reason
for your own internal fluttering
love is the stowaway
the silent cry
the open sigh
the brightest hidden dream
love is
the wish to grow wings
to reverse time
love has no reason
love has no rhyme
but
love is not
in the cruel whip that
forges
gorges
and rivers of pain
for financial gain
into soft sun kissed skin
like a javelin
love is not
the forceful graft
into foreign soil
for dawn to dusk toil
with Black bodies broken
for the Sovereign’s token
but
love is
love is
the eternal flame
that holds no name
love is
the synchronised drum
that familial hum,
love is
love is
love is
found
where hope nearly drowned
there was love
in the land of wood and water
as the Maroon’s strategic daughter
held tight fast
to her Ashanti past
so
love lives
in the actions of Queen Nanny
who was far too canny
to bend her knees
across the seas
Before this beginning
there was love
that talked and walked
through the bluest of blue mountains,
they walked and talked
of their ancestors
in ancient homes,
they talked and walked
and named the strange land
with familiar words
that retains the link to the time
before time
was split
like a fallen coconut
they walked and talked
of the Akan trickster Anancy
and sang the stories of resistance
into the blue black night
that held them with a mother’s might
because there are days
when you have to bow your head
to the heavy hand
and there are other dawns
when you have to raise
your fist to preserve the love
that clings to your foot as
you are both torn asunder
like unevenly yoked cattle
So love led Queen Nanny and her Maroons
to walk and talk
into the blue black night
that held them all with a mother’s might
Love caresses and holds
it cautions and moulds
Love is a serious act
love is a revolutionary fact
against divisions
that are not yours
Love is a fighter
that wins the day
and often the nights
so-ooooooo
when fresh life emerges in a bath of tears
with pain and trembling joy
the newborn cry is a gifted memory
celebrated with libations to the ancestors
and the secret burial of the navel string
beneath the roots of the orange tree
that has watched
generations of downy hair turn grey
and bones return to dust
love is
the
shining star
nursing a heart-worn scar
leading Sister Harriet Tubman
back
to herself
back
to freedom
Love is
when
you start
your own
new world
you make
your own
new ways
in unfamiliar spaces
with unknown faces
Love is the blanket that draws close
when you need it most
Love is the fear
that you share
with your heart
that is another part
of you
else-where.
Love is impossible
to paint
for the light
is never right
for the many shapes
that chameleon love takes
means love is sometimes
not recognised
when feelings are circumcised
by your heart
Love is
difficult to define
love is
impossible to confine
love is
not easy to recognise
love is
love is
a mysterious prize
Love is
tailor made
it needs no accolade
but
careful you don’t fall
as
one size does not fit all
Love is
sometimes seismic smiles,
and even electric eyes
love defies all death and wars
love is
love is
love is … us!
In the words of Robert Nesta Marley,
“One love, one heart
Let’s get together and feel all right.”
© Marjorie H Morgan February 2K20