She took her love, such a precious gift
And she carefully wrapped it in fine silk,
covered it in lace,
tied it with a pretty purple bow.
Gingerly, she laid her love in the silver box
And handed it over to her beloved.
Her beloved at first embraced the gift
Displayed it for all to see, the shiny silver box, in the place of cherish.
Eventually the silver box grew older
And beloved grew ever so tired
Of remembering to return to the place of chreish
And care for the exquisite gift of love.
The silver box of love was slowly buried
Under the heavy weight of years’ old anger, fear, and rejection.
The giver of the box grew old and tired and herself.
One day she really woke up, seeing deeply in the mirror
The silver streaks in her hair and wrinkles cascading her face
Warning her that this lifetime was short.
There was a small yearning inside of herself
And she found herself in the place of cherish.
She began to slowly dig through the weight that was burying the silver box
She used her strengths of love, of compassion, of caring
And grain by grain, she unearthed the box once more.
Though the box was nearly broken from the weight it had withstood
Inside the tarnished silver covering
She found the beautiful purple bow
The still white lace
The soft silk protective cover.
And love was still alive there
Not worn or tarnished
But as pristine and unconditional as the day
She had decided to give it away.
She returned to her beloved and said
Look what I have unearthed, from the place of cherish
And they cried with delight
To know that no matter the weight of the pain
Love somehow lived on and on.