You who built the railroad tracks and roads Sharing your water, sharing your potatoes and greens You, Violeta Parra, grateful for the alphabet, for sound, singing toward us in the dream Weeping or touching the faces of the weeping You better than me, you kinder and so blistering with anger, you are who I love, standing in the wind, salvaging the umbrellas, graduating from school, wearing holes in your shoes You struggling to love or find a question You are who I love, you struggling to see You are who I love, writing letters, calling the senators, you who, with the seconds of your body (with your time here), arrive on buses, on trains, in cars, by foot to stand in the January streets against the cool and brutal offices, saying: YOUR CRUELTY DOES NOT SPEAK FOR ME You are who I love, changing policies, standing in line for water, stocking the food pantries, making a meal
#I love you you love me poem how to#
You stirring the pot of beans, you, washing your father’s feetįeeding your heart, teaching your parents how to do The Dougie, counting to 10, reading your patients’ charts You dancing in the kitchen, on the sidewalk, in the subway waiting for the train because Stevie Wonder, Héctor Lavoe, La Lupe You looking into the faces of young people as they pass, smiling and saying, Alright! which, they know it, means I see you, Family. You taking your medicine, reading the magazines
You with henna on your feet and a gold star in your nose You protecting the river You are who I love You with cats in your voice in the morning, feeding cats The poet’s song is dazzling and the passion powerful, but the deepest beauty of love is how it changes lives.You, selling roses out of a silver grocery cart What we really feel is reflected in what we do. We would have a healthier conception of love if we understood that love, like parenting or friendship, is a feeling that expresses itself in action. But neither is it a passion that expresses itself in cruelty, or one that does not express itself at all. Love is not an obligation done with a cold soul. Of course it is possible to perform all sorts of duties for someone and feel little or nothing for them. She asks then, “If that’s not love, what is?” In Fiddler on the Roof, when Tevye asks Golde whether she loves him after a quarter century of marriage, her wry answer is exactly on point:įor twenty-five years I’ve washed your clothes It is when one person believes in another person and shows it. And real love is not only about the feelings of the lover it is not egotism. There is a lover and a beloved-you don’t just love, but you love at someone. But the love of other people is directional. Yes, you can love things that do not love you back-the sky or a mountain or a painting or the game of chess. That is why we often hear the phrase “you don’t act like you love me.” We know in our bones that love is not a feeling alone, but a feeling that flows into the world in action.īetween human beings, love is a relational word.
When a child is born, the parent’s reaction to this person, who so recently did not exist, is to feel that “I would do anything for her.” In the doing is the love-the feeling is enacted. The first love mentioned in the Bible is not romantic love, but parental love (Genesis 22).
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