Paul Johnson thumbnail
“You are a garden locked up, my sister, my bride; you are a spring enclosed, a sealed fountain. Your plants are an orchard of pomegranates with choice fruits, with henna and nard” (Song of Solomon 4:12-13).
Honestly, I hate poetry. I hate it because I do not get it. Most of the imagery is lost on me because most of the imagery in a poem is based on the context of the writer. Now I understand personal context, but most poems do not come with a context commentary placed off to the side. I guess that gives English students and teachers something to do.
About the only poetry I am good at is the simple, sappy poems put on Valentine’s Day cards.
When I was a kid, my mother bought my Valentines for me. I would just sign them and stuff them into their envelopes and then into the other kid’s paper sacks at school, even the special one that went to the girl I thought was the cutest — sign and stuff. Not thinking, really. Not much planning. Just sign and stuff.
Well, those days are long gone. Not only is there no more signing and stuffing, but my mother wouldn’t think of helping me pick out a card for my wife (nor would I wish to ask her). My wife wants me either to pick it out — or write it — myself. Alone. Solo. And as an adult male, picking out anything for a woman is tricky. Especially if the woman is, as the poem alludes, locked up, enclosed, sealed.
The above poem comes from the Song of Solomon, in the Bible, the book of the Bible that supposedly reveals the most about a romantic relationship. But let us be honest — that book is next to gobblygook. It seems to mock most men. I mean, really: garments that smell like Lebanon? Noses like towers? And what is “nard” anyway? Where do you get it, and what do you do with it once you find it? My best guess is that it is a bath product, or a good smelling something that is hard to find unless you go to frilly frou-frou stores. Well, if it is that important, it needs a little broader distribution to make sure men can find it, like at the checkout line at Home Depot, next to the Aim-A-Flame.
When it comes to romance, I have found unspoken expectations dot the landscape of a relationship like land mines. They keep that sealed women sealed. It is a mystery, like nard. And yet, nard aside, I have discovered one thing about romance: it must be personal.
Romance is the electricity around intimacy. Intimacy happens when people give themselves to each other in a way that is unique and personal. We can do this because we were created to be in deeply personal relationships. In romance, it does not matter so much what you do, as long as you are giving yourself, and asking for self in return. It is more than going through the motions of pick the card, any card, sign, and stuff. The secret of romance lies in making it personal.
Of course, it would not hurt to offer a few of those personal touches in the checkout line at Home Depot.
Quick note: I have been writing this article since November 2009, and realized I have never solicited feedback from the readership. If you have a burning response to an article I have submitted, or a question you would like to have addressed, send me an email at the address below. Thanks, and happy spring.
Paul Johnson is a professionally licensed marriage and family therapist and a nationally certified counselor. You may reach him at 807-6645 or bpaul@lifepractical.org. He is available for marital, family or individual counseling or consulting, or for speaking at your local organization. His office is in Greystone Centre on U.S. 280.
