ON LOVE

Love seems to possess a bountiful inventory, and it seems to embody any number of traits within itself, all at once, yet it seems to be entirely without a face. Love has arms that do not let go of their prey, and Love has a pelvis with the force of the oceans and the magnetism of the earth, and yet it is without eyes or mouth.

Yet we, carriers of love, are possessed with things such as eyes and ears and mouths, and thus we are able to feel Love with our senses, and we are able to express it in forms such as music or works of art: forms that Love itself could not hear or see, but forms able to be experienced by other carriers of Love; other individuals. And thus we, as beings, are able to share love with one another and know one another through love more than we are able to share love with Love itself, or know the nature of Love itself. We cannot love the notion of love, for it pains us. Nor can we understand the notion of love, for its power lies in its elusiveness.

Love wears a broken watch that he is constantly attempting to wind, but in winding it he foolishly neglects his most important duties.