The hurt is proportionate to the love—
(or something like that). CS Lewis watches
his love succumb to cancer, and I cry
without fail. Every time I watch the film
the great shy man falls in like and then love
and then grief—then the miracle happens
every time—he falls in love more and
he listens. The great wise man listens
to the wisdom his love has deep in her heart.
She wraps it around her son and CS Lewis.
She wraps love from the shadow lands around
the men in her life, and they know, finally
the meaning of the inside of the wardrobe—
the fierce love of story, shadow, and light.
For Sumana's promptPoets United Midweek Motif ~ Life: Paradox And / Or Balance
My blog poems are rough drafts.
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© 2019 Susan L. Chast