Love is a big question mark for me with its forever changing colors of expression. Read here a blog post from the past about Love…
Love is a big question mark.
Is there a certain way that one feels love?
Is there a defined way one shows love?
What is it? How should it feel?
Is it love?
To lose my identity in a newborn’s innocence
And my stability in an adolescent’s justified arrogance;
To melt like fresh snow in the morning sun
And harden like a diamond facing life’s cruel fun;
To lose myself in the moments beauty
And in the future’s endless worry;
To be ravaged with life’s endless hopes and desires
And enjoy momentary pleasures;
To let the struggles rage torrents of gushing emotions
Tugging and tearing at the heart’s suspicions
And to write off everything as karma’s go
At crushing my individual ego;
To feel compassion at the suffering
And to be indifferent to the crying;
To remind myself of my fragile mortality
And revel in the glory of my immense…
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