Big Frank has heard lots of people speculate on what love means, of how to define love. It is a feeling that resides inside the lover but must, of course, make some kind of positive reference to the beloved. The balance is challenging. Here is a wonderful poem by J.V. Cunningham that captures something of love that Big Frank has never heard put so well.(9)
by J.V. Cunningham
Innocent to innocent,
One asked, What is perfect love?
Not knowing it is not love,
Which is imperfect--some kind
Of love or other, some kind
Of interchange with wanting,
There when all else is wanting,
Something by which we make do.
So impaired, uninnocent,
If I love you--as I do--
To the very perfection
Of perfect imperfection,
It's that I care more for you
Than for my feeling for you.
from "The Poems of J. V. Cunningham"
by J.V. Cunningham
Innocent to innocent,
One asked, What is perfect love?
Not knowing it is not love,
Which is imperfect--some kind
Of love or other, some kind
Of interchange with wanting,
There when all else is wanting,
Something by which we make do.
So impaired, uninnocent,
If I love you--as I do--
To the very perfection
Of perfect imperfection,
It's that I care more for you
Than for my feeling for you.
from "The Poems of J. V. Cunningham"
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