Love., by John Moore Subscribe to rss feed for John Moore

Love.

The dictionary lists it as such:
1. an intense feeling of deep affection.
2. a person or thing that one loves.
3. feel a deep romantic or sexual attachment to (someone).

But the nature of love is ineffable.

It can only be found in between heartbeats 
just before a crush replies to a message
In the bittersweet parting of souls so sweetly entitled 
goodbye, fare thee well, or adieu.

It can be found in the heat two bodies share
on a cold winter’s morning

In the clasp of two hands,
a makeshift locket to keep safe the secret 
the secret of vulnerability.

For love is dangerous.

Unrequited, it eats away at the heart, and mind
equal in measure to a terminal illness.

Intensely, it careens past caution and pleas alike,
not unlike a runaway train, one bend away from derailment

and, like a murmur, it can become lost in the wind
leaving only breathless desperation in its wake

But love is like many things,
 for its influence exceeds that of any 
man,
 movement,
 or idea.
For love is an emotion
seldom,
if ever 
absent from the mammalian heart.

We love many things, many people, many ideas,
even the idea of love itself. 

we become infatuated with its allure, 
and do anything and everything in our power
to firmly grasp something 
which has no shape
with which to grab purchase upon

instead we are left longing,
remembering our mother’s cooing lullabies, 
the warmth and softness of our first puppies hair
the heat and heartbreak of first and last kisses.

In our childhood, we learn love.
In adolescence, we learn anger
In teenage years, we learn sadness
in adulthood we realize that you never
truly 
completely
learn these things.

instead, with every day we must fill the void within
ourselves with these lifelong lessons.
there is a saying that there is a battle within us all, two
wolves endlessly assailing one another. 

The one that wins is the one you feed.

Let it be love.
Posted: 2015-10-25 02:03:24 UTC

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