Love
My instinct says, “Save.”
But to protect my loved ones,
I’d strike instantly.
It is such a natural reflex actually that it almost went right by without me noticing it.
When we (I) get involved emotionally with someone special, a transformation occurs. The primal drum beat of the protector awakens from it’s hibernation. ‘Guard the cave or die trying.’
(Lucky that my new place has a real door and a bolt. It makes the job way easier.)
It’s no joke though about that feeling we get. It’s a powerful surge of ancient DNA sequencing that makes us prepared to defend, and to protect our precious ones, and, then, to begin to live in dread of losing them.
It permeates our self and seeps through our total being.
It explains the searing pain of break-ups and failed unions, of rejection; our primal fears coming to modern fruition. It burns through us in reverse, an acid tearing away all the old assumptions and synaptic predictions we had made about the life we expected.
The only salve is to remember the good. The good moments, the sharing and loving times. They don’t lose their luster. They just become untouchable in life, but captured like photos of our best moments in an un-burnable book of our lives.
I’m coming to the end of my stash of “Haiku for Hopefuls” poems from the Seattle Missed Connections! I still have a few more Haiku for Hearts, but this is the second to last of the Hopefuls series. Enjoy!
