Silent Love

I wanted to love people.
I was dreaming of shining eyes,
warm smiles,
of tender touches and hugs.

I was dreaming of excitement
and laughter,
of careless joy and entertainment.
I was dreaming of high society life.

Now I have people to love:
broken souls,
weeping eyes,
bitter faces,
people too tired
to take care of themselves
and make up their appearances.

They are the dreary ones
you would not even notice,
those who walk silently
and hide behind others.

They are the ones
who enable the high society.
They are just like me.

They have shown me
that love is noiseless,
unpretending and humble.

Love walks in the backyards of life,
in silent gatherings
stopping beside tired souls,
gently looking into desperate eyes.

Love walks alongside hurting souls,
silently hiding behind their backs
speaking words of comfort,
dreaming of healing hearts.

I want to love people.
I am dreaming of weeping eyes,
lips too tired to smile,
of hesitant touches and broken hugs.
I am dreaming of authentic love.