More poetry and babies is needed

I am reading my friend's poetry for the first time. It is older that our friendship and it was hidden for almost 15 years. He is not planing to publish it or anything similar, simply he felt that it is right moment to share it with me, after all this years. It was appropriate gift for my upcoming birthday! Trust packed into the  verses. 

Poetry does not belong to anyone, neither to author; poetry has it's own life. I love to compare making art/creative process with giving a birth to a baby; I went through both.

Once when get's out of you art becomes everyone's asylum. You are delivery person, participating in divine process of creation. The purpose is giving.

If you are using certain art form to make a living or simply to survive, than keep in mind that once when creative process is finished, your art does not belong to you anymore. Once when gets exposed to a human eye, ear or mind every person will see it differently; your art will become a mirror for someone's cognition of world, life or feeling. Be aware that you are doing it because you feel strong urge, stronger than sexual one, to shape your demons together with everything you once learned or experienced, imagined or dreamed of into the piece. 

Once everything gets out, you are baptized. 

Being a mother is the most important role for me and my biggest happiness, even though I understand completely that  in my life, except my hard work, nothing else is in my control. Life is erratic. 

If you give a thought to a fact that you are a parent and that you are guardian of someone's life as long as you live, you will understand that they are living in your time, but that you are not living in theirs. Their time is just about to become, and most likely it will happen in the meantime, while you are getting to tired and/or to old. Besides of being your children, they are also humans with their own will, their future dreams, fears and hopes; with their lives which exclusively belongs to them, not to their parents or their future children. 

They are beautiful artworks you witness existing; you can put your trust in them, your love and your prayers. You can guide them and be grateful and honored to play this role in screenplay called life. You should do your best to be a parent, a shelter, a listener, a friend, an angel guardian, but you should never ask for their gratitude at the end.  

You chose to be their parent, they did not had a chance to chose to be your children. 

That does not mean they are not thankful, it only means you need to let them be, and you need to be proud of them for whom they are. Nevertheless, allow to your children and to poetry to remind you what it is crucial in life; allow yourself to trust in unconditional love again.  

I admire to children and I adore poetry. I admire and adore the pureness of heart. So, I beg you do not try to be a role model to your children or to use them as extension of your youth in order for you to accomplish your failed ambitions. 

 I beg you not to interpret the poetry based on  author's biography, even if you personally know the author, or if the author is yourself. 

You say you love me, but you do not, my love.

You say you love me, but you do not, my love. 

Love cannot be squeezed into one word or defined using only language, simply  because it does not belong to language. Twist your head around, It's all around you,  All is full of love. I will not try to define it, I am not a fool. 

I love words as much as I love love, but I never believed that for me or for anyone else is possible to frame complexity of love into one word, regardless the language we use. Off course, I have tendencies to describe feelings, to get a little bit closer to understanding of my inner world. We are humans and we intent to be in control, but beauty of love is in the fact that it is our of the reach. It is divine feeling and completely intuitive. If you know why you love someone, you probably do not love that person. 

Do not say you love me, because you do not. We are not lovers, neither friends, even we strongly feel both. You will protect me, you said. You will help me and be there for me! - I have heard from you many times, while we were drinking and smoking on the balcony feeling confusion of our heartbeats and coldness of winter's nights.  But you are not able to keep up with your words. You are exiled from your dreams and feelings. Today I am your friend, but tonight you will love me again and be jealous while I am kissing the other man. I will sleep in your bed again, alone, while you will spend the night on the couch. We will have puzzling fight and feel bad tomorrow, texting to each other: "I am sorry!", but thinking: I do not want to lose you. 

Then, you will start to date a girl and insist on my presence there. We are friends, right? Then you will kiss her, but stare at me. And I will drink more and laugh harder, trying to make it easier and less awkward for all of us.  I do not want to witness your deeply superficial relations, but I am doing it for some sick reason and I pretend not to care. I do it because I understand what you do not. I understand why you think you love me. 

You need me to be the person seen with my eyes. You love the version of yourself created in our most intimate moments in the crowed places during the long, confusing nights. That is what it is all about; we manage to create our own universe in presence of others. We establish addiction of other ones presence, but we did not talk about it. 

If you ask me we should never talk about feelings; we should only feel and follow it. We should let it inspire us! Allowed it to take us where we cannot go all by ourselves. We should follow our intuition and let ourselves go. 

Anyhow, tomorrow we will only be friends. 

 You do not love me, my dear, you only understand that feels right to be near me.

 If you would love me, you would not have to say it, but I would still be able to read it. So, you are drunk again, right? You love me, but it is too emotional, than too sexual and eventually too complicated. Love is never complicated, believe me. Love moves galaxies and transforms weaknesses into the strength.

It is a strong force, stronger than the sea.  

You say you love me, and I believe you. 

I knew it before I heard the words. I believe you, because I feel you. But again, if you think you love me enough, I will prove you wrong. Because, babe, love makes you brave, it makes you foolish, but it does not makes you being friends with someone. 

Thank you for your love, but if you are only ready to offer me learned version of love, than I recommend you to learn how to love someone else. 

Love, hera