Love
without clinging
cry
if you must –
but privately cry;
the heart will adjust
in the newness of loving
in practical ways:
cleaning
and cooking
and sorting out clothes,
all say, “I love you,”
when lovingly done.

So –
love
without clinging;
cry –
if you must –
but privately cry;
the heart will adjust
to the length of his stride,
the song he is singing,
the trail he must ride,
the tensions that make him
the man that he is,
the world he must face,
the life that is his.

So
love
without clinging;
cry –
if you must –
but privately cry;
the heart will adjust
to being the heart,
not the forefront of life;
a part of himself,
not the object –
his wife

So
love!

By Ruth Bell Graham
From Footprints of a Pilgrim

Read more poetry written by Ruth Bell Graham.