Expectation — I Know Not Why

I know not why, in every bond we weave,

Upon love’s flowing river wide and deep,

We build these dams—these fragile walls of need,

Where once the current ran, now shadows creep.

We place our hopes like stones across the stream,

Expecting steadiness, a guarded shore;

But in our hands, the river loses its gleam,

And love contracts, confined—becomes no more.

The dam divides us—there, and here we stand,

On either side, untouched by each other’s rain,

Far from the moist, life-giving, tender land,

We dwell alone, untouched by joy or pain.

And yet the flood will come—its swollen tide

Sweeps all away—our bridges, walls, and fears.

The shattered fragments, broken dreams collide,

Leaving but ruins, scattered through the years.

A heap of hopes, unmet, now lies in dust,

Along with bonds once warm and fiercely bright;

Replaced by ashes—cold regret and rust—

And smoldering embers of the night.

We burn within this fire of our own making,

Flames of desire turned to bitter ash.

In silence, grief—unspoken, aching,

Feeds the fire with every trembling flash.

What is this yearning, deep and unfulfilled?

Is it the cost of holding tightly fast?

The human heart, with longing always thrilled,

Traps love in cages, doomed not to last.

Oh, to release these dams that bind so tight,

To let the river run in freedom’s course—

To trust the flow, embrace both dark and light,

And find in letting go a healing source.

For love, like rivers, must be free to roam,

Not chained by walls of expectation’s weight;

Only then can it find its living home,

And turn what’s fragile into something great.

So, if I learn to loosen all my hold,

To welcome floods, to cherish ebb and flow,

Perhaps new stories, warm and bright and bold,

Will rise where broken dreams once lay below.

Until that time, I stand beside this stream,

Watching the waters play in restless dance,

Knowing that love is more than any dream—

It’s trust, surrender, and a second chance.