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On written thoughts.
Jan. 30th, 2002 11:49 amTwo thoughts, both written some time ago.
When it comes to the infinite wonder of things, one must wonder why more people don't feel it. How can you miss the magic inherent in the morning mist, not feel a moment so new and promising that your heart bursts into song? Or how about simply marveling at the trees and how they stand against the sky, weaving a latticed tapestry with branches either clothed or bare. When the seasons turn, can you not feel your connection to the Earth? That she is part of you and you are part of her?
And...
I asked myself tonight why I love. And you know that the answer is? It doesn't matter. It is enough simply to do so. I love because I love. There can be no other explanation without putting a price, a limit to the love. If I love someone because then because eventually changes to when and then my arms hold nothing but a ghost who refuses to be poured back into the shape from which it came. I love. I love you. Do not ask for more, for I have given you all.
When it comes to the infinite wonder of things, one must wonder why more people don't feel it. How can you miss the magic inherent in the morning mist, not feel a moment so new and promising that your heart bursts into song? Or how about simply marveling at the trees and how they stand against the sky, weaving a latticed tapestry with branches either clothed or bare. When the seasons turn, can you not feel your connection to the Earth? That she is part of you and you are part of her?
And...
I asked myself tonight why I love. And you know that the answer is? It doesn't matter. It is enough simply to do so. I love because I love. There can be no other explanation without putting a price, a limit to the love. If I love someone because then because eventually changes to when and then my arms hold nothing but a ghost who refuses to be poured back into the shape from which it came. I love. I love you. Do not ask for more, for I have given you all.
