Opportunity Cost

A Year of Sonnets — 063/365

Photo by Marvin Meyer on Unsplash

Love is no binding light, no mighty hand
to cradle us in illness or in grief,
no vaunted soul from whom we may demand
the miracles that justify belief
in higher powers, Gods that intercede
within the stories set upon their stage —
perhaps they find delight when actors bleed
an ink that fills many an empty page.

But Love will slip your skin, carry away
the common sense you kept in sacred trust
wind-swept upon a random, lonely day
all reason lost to fantasy and love.

Perhaps it’s not so much a sacrifice,
as freedom — precious, dear, and worth the price.