The archaeology of love

Today this Sunday
           when rain clouds hover
and the light falls
           greyly upon the world
let us delve into
           the archaeology of their love
let us examine
           with a forensic eye
the smallnesses that led
           to their separation
the petty slights that occasioned
           wounded pride
the insignificant hurts
           felt on both sides
that were simply
           not tended to in time

We need not ask
           whether it was he or she
that loved the most
           for the measure of love
is to love beyond measure
           :  just as the rose
is never more than a rose
           love too either is or it is not

And yet the heart stirs
           is human and prone
to the restless confusions
           of day and night
and the tongue is loose
           and the mind wanders
and there are times
           when even what is right
is wrong and a bruise
           needs to heal and the dust
needs to settle and a pardon
           to be bodily begged

John Lyons