Love

We live love.
Our pain is rooted in it.
In unmet wishes, empathy and loss.

We live love.
Our fear is born of it.
Born of knowing all that could go wrong in this big, wild world, and the realisation that our arms are not long enough or strong enough to keep it all at bay.

We live love.
With every decision to try, and try again.
With every tear, with every laugh, with every stolen glance.

Love lives us in return.
It squeezes our hearts.
Sometimes with warm hands, pumping, flooding us with energy and determination.
Sometimes icy fingers of anguish.
Love leaves us feeling….helpless, heart sick.
Love leaves us feeling…hopeful, head strong.

Love comes, as day, as night.
It creeps in quietly.
Some days, there are beautiful displays. Some days it feels magical and alights our sense of wonder.
Other days the sun is too bright, it burns. The darkness too intense and frightening.

As day, and night love is constant.
As day and night we need it.
As day and night we need to let go of a singular idea of what defines it as “good” or “bad”.
There is no right or wrong way to live, or love, to live love or be lived….

There is only the messy, imperfect, fumbling, bumbling, painfully beautiful mess of trying.

As the sun and the moon claw their way through clouds and mist, smoke and fog. Each day coming back. Again and again, but not with out rest.

We live love.
Imperfectly
Painfully
Fearfully
Helplessly
Hopefully
Beautifully
Shining sometimes.
In darkness sometimes.
Resting sometimes….