Of Love and Motivation

One last cup of tea
Saves one from insanity
Of a Saturday morning
When, without warning
The brain starts trawling through
One's past life: all the hullabaloo
Comprising love and loss,
Failure, success, all the dross
Of those end-to-end years,
All the scares, the tears,
All the compromises
That memory survives
But soul doesn't, the physical shock of gasp
And defeat, the lack of heat, the frost that rasps
The heart, the threading of steps
Through mazes of unhappiness
And regret for those of higher
Worth, whom you, at the time did not require
To take part in your days,
All that painhaze
Of broken dreams
Of paper reams
Which in your time you've filed,
That first experience of being beguiled,
Of seeing the world is not all it seems -
Call it disillusion, call it a means
To an end - this valediction is for all those
(and I know
you're out there)
Who walk their days alone, ignore the tear
In the heartwall, who gloss-over non-win situations,
Grit their teeth, always rise to an occasion,
To the ongoing fight which is living,
Which is life, and who believe that the giving,
Regardless, is what it's all about,
That the importance of loving -
In the final analysis - must win out.

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