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Loved By A Poet | 3.20.21
I’ve thought awhile what it means to be loved by someone, how it’s shown, how it’s displayed, how it will be remembered. The how is variable, shifting between the type of people doing the loving, the style in which they demonstrate adoration, loyalty, lust, and connection. Loved by a carpenter, perhaps it’ll show its face in handmade furniture scattered across a house, loved by a baker, in homemade bread filling the house you share with scent and sustenance.
Loved by a poet, you become words. Every gesture you don't know you’re making, every quirk you are unaware of. The way you light up when helping another, the way you choose cemeteries and bookstores instead of shopping centers and fancy restaurants. The way you read two pages of a book before falling asleep, the tenderness in your fingertips. It all becomes words, a million billion words scattered across the timeline of a relationship, and in that, immortality becomes yours, becomes tangible and real.
I hope you like the words of you, I hope I choose the proper ones, I hope they do you justice. I am only sorry that you cannot sit in them, as though a chair I could have made you, I am only sorry they cannot feed you, as though bread I baked all by myself.
You’ll live forever, I hope this will do.
Loved by a poet,
you'll always turn into words.
You'll live forever.
Haiku on Life by Tyler Knott Gregson
Song of the Day
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