Love is like cinders on a warm hearth -volatile but giving every appearance of calm.
It’s impossible to escape it, isn’t it?
I mean, where will you go where you aren’t constantly reminded of it?
They say it’s in the air. But I wonder if it isn’t in our eyes instead. When I look at the stars, a curiosity fills me – a cosmic curiosity – how do they bear being the object of love and attention of so many? How do they still manage to burn with the same luminosity – after so many light years? How is it that they still give off a gentle heat for the sake of others? THAT IS LOVE. It never takes. No. It gives. But, by and by, I have come to realize that although love delights in giving the most, it DOES expect something in return. It’s more of an exchange. Maybe the stars expect admiration in exchange of their intensity?
When I look at the trees swaying right and left, their leaves murmuring soft whispers in their lover’s ears – the wind – I am filled with a joy so pure that it hurts to breathe.
I wonder if love isn’t just suffering that we have gotten used to – addicted to. Because, although the leaves and the wind get to caress each other every single moment of their being, it must hurt to the nth degree for the wind to know that one day, the leaf will wither away? Her object of fancy will be no more but she will be condemned to go on and on – forever, seeking the same pleasure but never finding it because you can find a similar body, yes, but can you duplicate a soul – the very essence of being?
So, I guess, that’s what love is.
WE ARE LOVE.
Every ounce of our being burns and dances with this pure emotion. It’s just that, sometimes we cloak it with hardness and cruelty because, let’s face it, something this pure needs to be safeguarded at all costs, right?