Love labors <br />often in the pit of sorrows; <br />an ax sometimes <br />pounds away <br />digging deeper down <br />into sorrows depths <br />to the sub-strata <br />of Bitter Regrets. <br /> <br />Love sometimes labors <br />planting Honey Trees <br />watching them grow <br />to form <br />garden-greens <br />and water-falls. <br /> <br />Laboring Love <br />brings the baby child <br />whose smiles <br />washes away <br />the pain <br />child-bearing brings. <br /> <br />Love labors in my eyes <br />in which you can see <br />my heart <br />waiting beside <br />that rosy road <br />which <br />always <br />brings <br />you home to me. <br /> <br />Laboring love <br />exhausts itself <br />for it has no choice <br />but to be relentless <br />in pursuit <br />of giving birth <br />to <br />itself.<br /><br />Lonnie Hicks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/labor-love/
