Her Many Masks

Love continues to surprise me
with the many masks she wears.
How different is she really from
someone who truly cares?

Her range is vast.  A spectrum
remarkably unmatched.
She can exist in both obsessive
as well as emotionally detached.

She peeks out behind jealousy 
and vulnerability.  Anger and rage.
At times, it can be easy to forget
that just because she isn’t center stage

doesn’t mean she’s not rooted
in our emotional expression.
Disguised rather smartly,
she always leaves an impression.

The protective words of a
loyal, fierce friend.
She may not present as we 
so often intend.

The stormy rant of a lover
once scorned.
The tears in a mother’s eyes
as she holds her newborn.

The grief we feel when 
someone leaves us behind.
The justice we fight
for all of mankind.

So, when I’m unsure 
and she’s wearing her mask,
I’ll simply be still. 
There’s no need to ask

why we emote the way 
that we do.
It’s love pulling the strings,
that I know to be true.