I love a girl who I was thrown out of love with, but help me, I still love her. The fact that I don’t deserve her is a piddling thought that has been worn out of thinking.
I loved a girl whose impact on me I have not evaluated, out of impatience, selfishnessness. My impact of love is not a fleeting action or feeling, it is a compassionate, self giving gift which goes beyond the bounds of real understanding on my part, but my understanding at least understands that much. I must think with intent, love is not a jolly romance everyday. And pursuing true love in my life has proved to be a mountain that only allows you to climb it when its ready to be climbed. I have been tossed in the wake of it’s plinth and the shadows of harsh winters. No, I must center myself before The Father, and all in life follows, love not the least. I must be centered on a splinter, concentrated to a granule of pure devotion to make myself the instrumentation of love in all layers, in all fields, in all triumph and tragedy. Her waving hair and piercing gaze may pierce my pupils for evermore, but a helpless boy to its sway, i shall be, nevermore.
I am in fact a pidgeon wedged in a precarious rock on a cliff face waiting to be blown by the cough of a gust, to tread down a cliffside without control would be a delight to the pidgeon whose wings are clipped and beak is chipped.
No comments:
Post a Comment