This poem is based on 1 Corinthians 13 and in honor and memory of a friend and friends.
You may listen to me read the poem via the player below.
Love is not strength Though it is patient and kind. Not that it doesn’t desire Or burn hot as fire, Yet it does not quit. It takes a seat to the side, and there it will sit Through time’s tides and troubles. It Does what it can And with you stands Ready to help, paying no mind To impatient demands. Love does not shine. It does not put me first or over other’s climb Or grab with greed, yelling, Mine. Mine. Mine! Love cannot keep you from grief But only makes sadness more certain Only makes the inevitable hurting Of goodbye sure. Love cannot keep others from leaving. It cannot make them stay. Love is not enough To keep any from going away. It cannot keep. But of those wrongs, the slights, The thoughtless words said in jest, The deeds that were nothing near the best One could be? Love keeps no record of the wrong Whether they happened today or time long Since gone. Love cannot heal. It cannot make anyone well. If they are sick and dying, It’s not like some spell That can magically make them right. Though if you love, love just may keep you awake Night after night, After night. Love makes no demand. It does not have to have its say Which means that things may not go your way. And so love oftentimes weeps Or grieves what it may not keep. Love takes no delight in the cruel Or wicked things which others say or do, But love rejoices in the true. And when seeing the truth Love bears all things, And in so doing Carries the weight of waiting For the other to come ‘round Or for the time when what was lost Is at last found. Love cannot keep, make, or do, Yet it believes all things which means He still believes in you. Yes, love may be blind. It cannot see the hope. (Who hopes in what they can see?) But with hope in faith Love looks down the drive, Expecting any moment to see you. You, who were thought to be dead, alive Walking up to the house. Love is not strength Though it endures all things: Whether fearing the grave Or the pain of death’s sting. Love never fails, Is on time, never late. For it always hopes, always trusts, And waits and waits And waits… © Randall Edwards 2021. This poem is for Christ’s church. If it is helpful, please feel free to copy or reprint in church bulletins, read aloud, or repost. I only ask that an attribution be cited to myself (Randall Edwards) and this blog (backwardmutters.com).