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.