First Love (Poetry)

There’s none can tell the heart which face to love,
instruct the beat to quicken on demand,
there is no law which governs breath or pulse
to flutter at the touch of one soft hand.

There is no rule to measure that deep ache
of separation when the Fates aren’t kind,
there is no way to stop the longing thoughts
from crowding in and filling up the mind.

The heart knows what it needs and can’t be fooled,
will not accept another in her place
however young and beautiful the choice,
it isn’t her — the absent, yearned-for face.

Such passion, unforgotten, will not die
but sings inside the ocean of the brain,
where tides recede, run gently over time,
then surge at every mention of her name.

Love never listens — none can tell the heart
the quest is hopeless, everything is lost,
Love holds on to the dream and waits for years,
patient and unheeding of the cost.

Until, at last triumphant, on the day
Loves smiles and spreads itself among the crowd,
the heart can share its feelings with the world
and sing its passion joyously aloud.