I Am Not Yours by Sara Teasdale

I am not yours, not lost in you,

Not lost, although I long to be

Lost as a candle lit at noon,

Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

You love me and I find you still

A spirit beautiful and bright,

Yet I am I, who long to be

Lost as a light is lost in light.

Oh plunge me deep in love – put out

My senses, leave me deaf and blind,

Swept by the tempest of your love,

A taper in a rushing wind.

on the Poet: Sara Teasdale (1884-1933) was a lyric poet who won many awards for poetry including the Pulitzer in 1918 for her anthology Love Songs.

on a personal note:

Once again it’s that special time of the year when the hearts of florists, chocolatiers, and lingerie manufacturers thrill to the sweet tune of ka-ching! ka-ching! To my regular readers, I’m sorry that I choose this particular month to strafe you with Anti-Valentines.

Gentlemen, if like Sigmund Freud, you too are asking yourself “what do women want”, the answer is simple – something other than whatever you’re offering right now.

You love me, and I find you still

A spirit beautiful and bright,

Yet I am I, who long to be

Lost as a light is lost in light.

[Translation: It’s not you, it’s me.]

It’s enough to make a guy cancel the bouquet and reach for the remote. Alas, football season is over, and the great day of Love is looming around the corner like a mugger in a dark alley.

Coming back to the poem, the one recurrent word is ‘lost’ – in you, as a candle lit at noon, as a snowflake in the sea, as a light is lost in light.

Is the poet asking for too much, or is she merely giving words to something that many of us would be too embarrassed to articulate – a yearning for a love that is all-consuming, powerful, and redeeming.  Openly admitting this would gain us the pity of our friends, and the names of some recommended therapists from others who only wish us well.

This is a lovely lyric poem; but as euphonious as it sounds, it represents an impossible emotional neediness that would send most people scrambling for the exit. We are no more here waiting for someone else to complete us with their love, any more than we are here to fill another’s inner void. Live long enough and we come to find that life is less about the love we demand than the love we give - freely, unstintingly, and with no thought of self; and perhaps, that is the only way to be lost as a light is lost in light.

Happy Valentine's Day.