Mirror Of Love Poem by Johnathan Stokes

Mirror Of Love



Life presents itself, in all of its grandeur situations
Both extravagantly compelling and tirelessly disheartening
So naturally, along you came, seeming of the unnatural,
Revealing heaven to a skeptic, enchanting thoughts, (there must be something greater)
For chance would have revelled to have stumbled upon your existence,
Nothing could be that beautifully clumsy!

What's the remedy for pains? What's the meaning of life? How do we fill our time? Feel our passions?
Love is the simple answer…
The problem that precedes it is in finding someone
Who will receive it just as graciously
As they will give it compassionately;
The optimist says the world is full of these people;
The cynic says the world has a few of these people
And their possession of this characteristic fades in time;
I said I knew a person, with-out any revere for the cynic's impressions
And with-out any true contemplation of the optimist's thought,
For no theory pondered you: such a person extends beyond speculation's apprehension.

A beautiful woman can reduce a complex brilliant mind
To a simple murmuring stupor,
All the while building up the heart
With contemplation of its completeness to come.
A beautiful woman does this without the slightest knowledge of her doings,
Only a hunch about her powers,
A hunch in the form of understatement,
And I, being left to think it, hope it, wish it, were my overstatement.
A sharp wit is as that of a sword,
Piercing, bursting bubbles, never growing dull in the process.
You did not dull,
You simply left one totally unarmored and enamored.

A woman with no self-respect has no standards
And no appeal,
Therefore oppositely so, a woman with self-respect has high standards
And all the appeal.
I did not meet those standards,
And have since tried to convince myself
That somehow I did not need you and you did not meet mine.
Self deceit is not my forte,
Though it is my second greatest wish that it was,
And you are not mine,
That being my first...
When one faces the mirror of love
And the rejection paints itself on the face of reflection
I saw something in myself, something I've never seen before....

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