Michael Bergs’ Poem (The Reader)
I’m not frightened
I’m not frightened of anything
The more I suffer
The more I love
Danger will only increase my love
will sharpen it
will give it spice
I really own the angel you need
You will live life even more beautiful than you enter it
Heaven will take you back and look at you
Only one thing can make it so complete
And that thing
You see, most of the time, people don’t talk about love. They don’t want to talk about it. Or they just can’t. We all know why. They’re ashamed. They’re frightened. The good question will be, ashamed of what? I think they’re frightened that they won’t get what’s so called reciprocal confession, feeling, from the person they’ve said love to. Perhaps, they think they have other ways to show that they love through actions. Or perhaps they’re just trapped in a situation where they just can’t do that. But, I really don’t mean saying love in a complicated situation like wars, or age-distance, or triangle love, hah. I’m talking about simple, ordinary situation, where people have millions of chances to say that they love. I’m not bothered, though. In fact, I’ll rather say the way I feel to people meant to me, directly. Not exactly saying that I love them, but I’ll show them how I feel about them through obvious words. Like, “you’re a warm-hearted person, I’m lucky to be your friend”. But of course there’re lots of more creative and imaginative ways to say it. We all love. So let’s just talk about it.
When I mention love, I really don’t mean particularly the relationship between a woman and a man. When I say love, I mean, love. Let’s not discuss about the obviously unnecessary question such as what is love. Let’s just talk about how you feel it. Why perhaps. But no no, never ask why. You’ll never find the one universal righteous answer. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I’m expert in love. But isn’t it? You try to ask your selves right now to find out why you particularly love someone or something. Like, why you love chocolate? Why that someone sitting on a chair in your classroom, smiling, attracts you more than everybody else’s smiles in the entire classroom? Or why, on earth, I love writing and watching movies but hating math while I studied both since I was very young? Why?
But who’s, on earth, not expert in love, really? We all do learn how to love, human. Since my Mom held me on the back, breast-feed me, baby-sit me when I was just a baby. Even before I was born, when she kept me, took a very good care of her self because she knew I was inside her body. We know how to be loved, that’s why we know how to love.
It’s interesting talking about how people love. I wanna hear yours, really. But it won’t be fair if the writer doesn’t tell hers. As for me, love is always related with passion. How I put courage, faith, in someone, something, I love. I put passion in doing things for that someone, in standing listening words he/she says, in every time I smile whenever he/she does something unique, very ordinary, but only you can see. I put hopes in things. I do forget them in some ways sometimes when I feel it’s just too hard to hold. But I can never really dispatch them. Ever. What I can’t tell here is to whom or what things I put passion in. You may know one, my God. Too obvious? Well, Mom and Dad. Haha.
Now, tell me about yours.