Minefield

Minefield

Love is a minefield

That every human being must traverse.

We can rush headlong,

Hoping for improbable luck.

We can step gingerly,

Believing naively that caution brings success.

We can carry a mine detector,

Focusing on possible disaster

And losing sight of the goal that love is.

We can lock ourselves in the minesweeper,

Protected from the splattering emotions,

Scooping up piles of debris

And burying love beneath.

From start to finish

There is no safe passage.

We plant the mines ourselves,

Forgetting where they were.

And if we lose an arm, a leg, an eye,

The body intact is not really

What love needs anyway.