My Calling
Love, not expectation.
Expectation is having my hand out.
What can you give me?
What do I get?
That is expectation, which is motive.
Love is having my hands out.
The sacrifice of me.
Being nailed to a cross for another.
Arms wide open to give, myself.
Not to give myself credit,
But to give myself away.
Love is the ultimate embracing of life itself.
The reward for love is love.
Or did I expect something else?
The only thing I wish to perfect in my life,
Is my love.
I believe that to be my calling.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
Added by Poetry Lover
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