[Image Credit: “sad and simple”
Long ago, I read an article on “things” some of us find difficult to express when we communicate with others. Three of those simple words work as my post’s title today. At times, even an exceptionally loved one may withhold these few letters what to us mean comfort at moments of despair, like a reassuring whisper to re-pump the drying heart. Perhaps, articulating these love-filled sounds equates to that beloved a forced confession of feelings of guilt, fault, blame or acceptance of an unwanted judgment. If only it weren’t for one fact: when there is love, there is no need for defense. For, there can be no intended offense.
I have no further deliberations on the subject – at least nothing I find worthy enough as far as a personal thought in prose to share with you here. Instead, I have jotted down some reflective lines in the form of a hopeful poem:
the fragile soul had never been undressed this way
nor can it ever again
for it has decided to be a once-only lover
it should have known not to attempt a fatal risk
still it hasn’t regretted being so bare
before the one for whom it had stripped itself
of hopes expectations
guilt blame fault
judgments
the innermost turbulence yet trashed it apart
with as violent a tearing from its core as can be
into a blindness of the temporary kind
the ego blamed guilted the other
dared to hope and to expect
not even massive masses of tears sufficed
to revive it from its raging death
from the beloved then it borrowed a new breath
stillness of the soul thus was demanded to prevail…
on its torturous path of an onus yet
it now opts in vain to regain courage
toward an ajar if not an open gate
for peace and salvation per the latest request:
not expecting
nor blaming
not faulting
nor guilting
not hoping
nor judging
just being dead
as needed by all
but the dying soul itself
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
8.3.2015
hülyaswritings 
As in the north American vernacular, minus any intellectual effort but always well meaning, I say… WOW!
I haven’t heard from or about Hülya for far too long. For reasons of personal reflections, I have myself been silent. However the beauty the poetry I have just read dear friend speaks volumes, as well as saddens me for having neglected seeking you out these last many months. A fruitful match indeed, dear Hülya!
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What a lovely ending to a trying and tiring day this one is being for me, thanks to your words of understanding-filled eloquence! I share your generous sentiment about negligence of a dear friend; namely, when my own is concerned, toward you. But then again, we do understand each other’s predicament, don’t we, dear Jean-Jacques? You have my thanks for not holding my lack of attendance on your lovely site against me. Be very well, dear friend. And, just like now, please let me know you are there behind the scenes…
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Great! I woke up this morning pondering “unconditional love.” Yours here touches on that beautifully. I am a work in progress but trying very hard to let go my expectations, obligations, conditional loving of others. Not easy. ❤
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I appreciate your words of eloquence, dear Paulette. I am a failed work in progress. Hence, the intense pain I am living while facing the loss of love, which I thought was unconditional. Apparently, the hopes and expectations were very much intact. And now, neither the heart nor the mind seems to obey the instructions that are easily given, including by none other than myself. With your kind comment, I at least know I am not alone in finding this particular “training” a challenge.
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