Something impossible. Something that does not exist, that you feel impotent as you cannot do it. Something that brings pleasure to fairies, something you cannot handle. Trying to do it is like trying to blow your life away in a misty day.
How ironic is it, that we, creatures of Heaven, can't be blessed with the immaculate fruit of love?
Why is it that we, human beings, can't afford to let go of something precious?
Because our souls stick to those objects, lovingly, and that is why we can't be completely blessed with the fruit of love. That is why we live imprisoned in our own selves, we don't believe in love; or most of us don't. They do not know the meaning of it. They do not know what they are referring to as they say the word. Love is a blessing. A feeling we cannot describe. What we cannot see with our own eyes. Love is not just kissing or hugging. Love is a feeling of blindness, which does not let you see your beloved one imperfect. Love is a feeling of impotence for the loved one's life, for the loved one's love.
Something which brings powerlessness because of someone else, is love. Love is never referred to as something funny, with which you can have fun. Love is referred to as a blessing, a gift, an angel kiss. Love is beyond description. Love is beyond kindness, beyond itself. Love is beyond reach. It's wings help you fly to where you belong. It takes you to the uttermost pits of happyness. It lives in you when you've found it, and if you haven't, it's still a part of you, but it is not shown. Love isn't just to look at each other; it's to look together in the same direction. Love is a blessing. That's all it is. That's all it has to be. All that it can be. Love is love.
No comments:
Post a Comment