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Diaryland |
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2002-03-05 - 9:05 p.m. For Raven, what I think...... Almustafa, in THE PROPHET, said this...... When love beckons to you, follow him, though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him, Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the Earth. Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself. He threshes you to make you naked. He sifts you to free you from your husks. He grinds you to whiteness. He kneads you until you are pliant; And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast. All thses things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart. But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure, Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears. Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself. Love possesses not nor would it be posessed; For love is sufficient unto love. When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, "I am in the heart of God." And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course. Love has no other desire but to fullfil itself. But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving; To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstacy; To return home at eventide with gratitude; And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips. ************************************** I don't know if I can say it any better then that about love. He also said, "Love one another, but make not a bond of love: Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls." I sleep with that prayer to you, my beloved in my heart. I can't really tell you what to do. I can tell you this though, I'll love myself regardless, for it's what I know I can and will do for everyday I trudge on wanting to know myself just as you. I realize love is boundless and that to crave for simple pleasures is not really love, it just puts up more walls, but it's not wrong either baby. It's what people need to understand themselves even if others already see the outcomes. This is all a part of life not mistakes or selfishness, as Almustafa even said of Joy and Sorrow, "They are inseparable." Find yourself, find your heart, I don't want to be your crutch or your chain, because that's not love. I'm ready to suffer and smile to find my heart and I know that's just saying it, I'm still working on things but I've weathered about 5 years of pain and bliss with you and I'm willing to go through it again with you or without you, because baby, it's what I gotta do and you too. So dig deep in your heart and reason and make a decision and when you do, you'll worry about me and you less and less and you won't feel this guilt and you won't desire petty things over boundless ones. Anyways, I'm coming back Thursday night, I'm not bringing Settler, his sister is on spring break this weekend and she goes to Temple and he wants to see her. I'll call you when I get in if we don't talk till then...........have a good week and all, hope everything in school is kosher, and work is treating you well. Love you.
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