Love is the essence of living. And there are days, which these days are most days when I feel it hurts too much to speak of love with careless abandon. I did so once. Perhaps even dared to do it twice. Once all was said done, I was left with a mere shell of my words.
If I dab my pen too much into love’s ink, it hurts. It hurts when I speak of what I had. It hurts when I speak of what I don’t have. It hurts to look at my empty hands and I realize even my wishes have slipped through my fingers.
© Romancing Life | 2017
Just as the grass will turn green in spring and the leaves, a myriad of colours in October, the Earth will become barren come winter. The sun will rise to give birth where decay once lay. It will rise to burn life to the ground. The rain will fall when the Earth is parched. It will fall even when the Earth has had too much to drink. This is the balance of nature.
Your body grows until it begins to shrink. You rise and fall with every breath. You disintegrate and renew each day. Year after year. Month after month. Day after day. The cycle repeats. Like love and and heartbreak. You love. You hurt. You forget and you learn to love again. This is the balance of life. Always precise. Not an event out of line.
Don’t question the timing of things. Everything happens precisely when it should. As it should. Precisely.
© Romancing life | 2017