Love Without a Ruler

Love Without a Ruler

They say, 

“Not too young, not too old,

not too short, not too tall,

not too broke, not too rich,

not too loud, not too quiet.

Love must fit into a box, 

Instagrammable, filter-ready,

approved by aunties and

‘the society.’”

But tell me,

is love a measuring tape?

A checklist?

A boardroom interview?

Some say,

“No, I can’t date him,

his shoes are second-hand.”

“No, I can’t love her,

her waist is not 24 inches.”

“No, I can’t choose him,

his English is not Oxford.”

“No, I can’t be with her,

she doesn’t cook like my mother.”

“No, I can’t marry him,

he doesn’t drive a car yet.”

“No, I can’t choose her,

her followers are too few.”

Zviroto! (What dreams!)

Tikagara tichiverenga zvinhu izvi,

(If we always count these things,)

handiti tichapotsa rudo?

(won’t we miss love?)

Because sometimes, 

the heart whispers louder

than rules written in dust.

Sometimes, 

the soul knows its mate

before the mind writes excuses.

What if the love of your life

is right in front of you,

smiling shyly,

carrying joy in their palms, 

and you turn away,

chasing “standards”

that were never yours?

Mudiwa wangu, (My love,)

rudo haruparadzwi nemakore,

(love is not broken by age,)

harunyengwi nechimiro chemuviri,

(nor by the shape of a body,)

harusarudzwi neruvara kana mari.

(nor chosen by skin or money.)

Love is a wild flower, 

it grows in cracked pavements,

it blooms in unlikely soil.

It does not wait

for permission from culture,

nor blessings from social media.

And when you feel it, you know:

hakuna standard rinokwana,

(no standard is enough,)

hakuna society inopikisa,

(no society can oppose,)

hakuna Instagram inonyepa.

(no Instagram can pretend.)

So next time,

before you say “No, I can’t,”

pause, listen.

What does your heart say?

What joy are you denying?

What rudo are you ignoring?

For in the end,

life is not a fashion show.

It is a sacred dance,

and only love, 

raw, real, reckless,

unafraid of whispers, 

can teach us the steps.