After a while she realized
it didn’t take endurance
to keep on loving,
nor was it heroic, really —
It was more like breathing —
something she must do
to be alive

And if she felt wrung out
and dry and hollow,
it wasn’t due to lack of loving
so much as lack of noticing
her love was insurmountable

There might be sorrow
and frustration
and righteous voices
shouting down the value of her love
but love would win
for she could never cease
and so her love would always be enough.

©Wendy Mulhern
February 12, 2014