Love Inchoate

So I’ve been thinking…and thinking…and thinking…about love and faith and love. My heart bursts with feelings (with almost every heartbeat, it seems) that my brain simply cannot process, or grasp in their entirety. There is so much to ponder - a lifetime’s worth of experience. Thoughts race in my brain throughout the day and night, but I can’t seem to catch them. I see glimpses of truths, only to have them obscured by bitter thoughts and painful memories. I fear I am ill prepared to discourse about love. Wounds gape and bleed. Pain overwhelms.

Who am I to speak of love, anyway? Other hearts, throughout all of human history, have tackled this subject with far more grace and art than I could ever muster. Libraries are filled with books about love. Want to listen to a love song? There are billions to sort through. Love is mother’s milk to poets, artists, playwrights, composers and every human being who ever walked this earth.

Still. There is an image in my head that calls to me incessantly. I see a heart placed in the hands of another. That image (dream) haunts me. It begs for words. I am trying…desperately trying…to find the words my dream elicits…

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(to be continued)