But I Don’t Want To Write About Love.

Do you know what love is?

What it feels like?

What it looks like?

What Love is?

I do. I don’t want to write about it.

Why?

Because it grips, holds, pulses breath through my very veins.

It’s too personal, emotional, real.

Yet it pours onto the page like honey from the spoon.

Slow. Calm. Sweet. Engulfing.

Leaving pause to wonder. 

What is love?

Why would one what to write about it?

When it’s the breath of life.

Seems redundant.

I hear you sigh…that long winded breath you release when I am petulant.

So I write. About love. Universal. Unconditional. Breath of all breath. Love.

As it should be. Pure. Simple. Heartwrenchingly beautiful. Joyful. Painful.

Even when I don’t think there are more words for it. I write.

But I don’t want to write about love.

Yet I cannot stop.

3 thoughts on “But I Don’t Want To Write About Love.

  • I remember back on the love that matters to me now. In my short nearly 71 years on this beloved planet, I know that I missed so many of these moments. I imagine this happens to a lot of us who are having this human experience. Let’s please stay connected to our source, understanding that we are spirits having this human experience. If we can keep our thoughts positive and as loving as possible, nothing can harm us. My love and prayers go out to all the people who have died and who are sick from this flu. Perhaps it was there soul contract to have this happen. Please allow us the honor of understanding this. To all love and peace! big pap

    Liked by 1 person

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