I met a girl once. I didn’t think it would happen but it did. I always heard that love appears and happens when we least expect it. That is sort of true. It can come but what we do with it is another matter.
It doesn’t always come in the right size or quantity either. Love comes in the
form it wishes to come in. We cannot control it or reason with it.
Love fulfills itself. Herself. Himself.
I once read that a writer utilizes their personal experiences to a great extent
when they write. I can agree with that. Personal experience is the color with
which we paint on the canvas of our lives.
Love is a color for which we have not yet found a name.
Love is a friend that remains mostly a stranger.
It is not the other person whom we mistrust, it is love that we mistrust for we know of its power to overtake and control us. To cause us to do things that are irrational. To remain mostly confused. Love is merciless because it
makes us dependent on another.
Love is a force beyond our power to control.
Without love we wither, with it we suffer. It is both hunger and fulfillment.
Love has wisdom of its own.
Let love guide us, it knows how to grow on its own.
Accept its wisdom and guidance. Love has much experience and seeks fertile hearts within which it can flourish. If love chooses your heart as its fertile field be thankful and grant it the opportunity to prosper for it is your
heart that will receive its bounty.
There is a reason that love has persisted throughout time.