Some emotions are too big for a poem.
There are events that happen in our life, memories and moments, that can never be transcribed. Poetry is born out of passionate experience, but some experiences become such a part of us, so ingrained in ourselves, that no amount of wording will ever capture the ways they have changed us.
A year ago, my father died. I can write about death. I can write about the evenings since then, the quiet stillness of this house, the deep coldness of those parts of myself that have yet to grow again. But I am young and resilient, and when one is young and loses a great pillar of love, that pillar is replaced by the hope of more love to come.
I would like to dedicate today to all of those people with no hope left of love. Who have given up trying to heal all of the hurt that life has put on them. Who wake up each day with no meaning, with no answer and no wonder. And I would like you to know that loneliness is not what it seems on the surface; we all pine for wholeness, for renewal and satisfaction. Sometimes, on our road to wholeness, the heart is the greatest obstacle to overcome. But it is in the heart, and the heart alone, that we make any kind of meaning out of this world. It is the heart that we must make whole, and we can only heal the heart through love.
Seek love. Seek it in community, in friends, in family, in pets. When your life is whole with love, so will you become whole with love.