Love Is Not Hyperbole
The dreaded dayis almost here,
with all the hoopla -
wagering each will do their part
in buying into the hype.
Fear of not satisfying expectations
will send sales of flowers and candies,
jewelry and trinkets soaring.
Love is not hyperbole.
Love is the mother rocking her child,
then wiping away tears
as she bids farewell
at a college dorm.
Love is the father holding out his arms
to catch the toddler
jumping into the pool,
honoring the trust between them.
Love is the daughter assisting her mother
with private needs,
telling a funny story
to soften the awkwardness.
Love is the grandson taking a moment
to engage with his grandparent,
recognizing that his time with them
has a finish line coming up.
Love is the neighbor calling to check
on the elderly lady next door,
another scraping her front steps
so she will not fall.
Love is the friendship that perseveres
through time and distance -
memories of hardship and joy,
the foundation of connection.
Love is the sibling maintaining communication,
sharing stories and photos,
keeping the links alive
as the pyramid of family structure collapses.
Love is the one who is our person,
loving the unmasked version of us,
providing safety and sanity
in the sanctuary of simply being.
Poetry by Melinda K Zarate
Written on 2026-02-13 at 18:57
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