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Love.
People talk, write, sing, and moan about love.
You love me. You don’t love me.
I love you. I no longer love you.
She loves him. He loves another.

Is it more important than
drifting
back to awakening,
and getting up each day,
with a sense of wonder?

Or more meaningful than
enduring
darkness and sorrow
until you come to the other side
where there is sunrise and beauty?

Is it more valuable than
doing
the dishes when you don’t want to
or cooking a meal when you are
out of inspiration?

Or more significant than
driving
your sister to her oncology appointment.
Or mowing the lawn or
weeding the tomatoes?

Is it more profound than
changing
diapers, or listening with care, or
forgiving your father, or canning beets,
or visiting the art museum, or doing
any of the things that make
your life rich and sweet and possible?

a


Christa King returned to university as a non-traditional student and received her BA in Creative Writing at the age of 51. She received a Master’s degree in Library Sciences in 2012. A long-time staff member with the University of Arizona and then with the University of Colorado, she is a poet, writer, and editor and is working on a poetry manuscript and a novel. 

© 2021, Christa King

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