Subject:  eros. Infinite Love |
Author:
gecko
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Date Posted: 11:34:18 04/11/01 Wed
Author Host/IP: NoHost/203.22.16.21
A Measure ment of Love
Who be this that thinks he could give
Love a measurement,
As it bounds about us infinitely?
It crosses over our deepest oceans,
Soaring higher then the mountain’s peaks,
It floats with us in the clouds and sits with us
As we follow the path of the stars within
Our small galaxy.
Love is the planets,
As they rotate in their embrace with the star
Who’s love in turn is her light,
Her warmth.
Love is the solar systems
In their slow swirling dance
Around each other,
Within the galaxy their waltz
Creates.
Love is everything,
In all things and yet
We cannot truly see it,
As it is not something of substance that the lights of life
Can reflect
Against giving form,
So is it that love is nothing?
Once did I ask the one that I love
With deepest desire,
“How do you measure the length of love?
Has someone created a ruler in love metres or feet?
What about love miles or kilometres,
Or love light years?”
She responded kissing lightly on the corner of my lips,
“Perhaps it'd be more like the volume of love…?
Like love litres or
gallons...?”
“Or the depth?” I pondered,
“Perhaps love leagues?
Or could it be the height?
But what would its level be to the sea?”
Was then she kissed my ear,
Whispering into it gently,
“Depth would be the most precise, I would say.”
Shivering slightly, I pull away
Smiling at her and the love that she
Represented in my life,
“But would the deepest channel in the Pacific,
which has parted us both be deep enough
to truly express the depth of love that is ours?”
Smiling, she replies,
“Not by my calculations my love.”
As softly her fingers trace their path
Behind my neck.
Closing my eyes to fully absorb what it is that this
woman does do to me I murmur,
“What of the depth of space or the intensity of a star?
The mass of love?
It may seem small to the eye but its sheer weight is incomprehensible.”
She murmurs an agreement,
Sighing as my hands begin to roam upon the contours of
her self.
“Love as a nova, that shines so strongly and so intensely,
Or perhaps a black hole,
Absorbing everything.”
I whisper as my lips trace the trail of her collar.
“Yes,” she moans,
“A black hole.”
Who am I to measure love?
Yet a measurement it seems to have,
Each love that enters our lives being so much different
From any other love before had,
Each love feeling
So different in its make up,
Its intensity.
Perhaps not truly a measure of how much we love
But of how we love,
In what direction that love
Does travel and what passions
Or desires
Do come with that love?
How is it you measure the love of a child,
As it enters your world
From the womb of your passions?
The child that grows to be so much a part of you
And a part of the one with whom you created it through.
The culmination of two loves to create one.
As tears of laughter
Fall down cheek
At sight of face
First seen to this world.
Face so innocent,
Face so pure
Wrinkled from wombs decent
And tears of laughter
Fall.
How humbling is the birth of a child?
It is then that we realise
that we are but human and that other things
surely do have higher acclaim above us.
How are we to measure the love for this child?
Or that for the children
that follow?
Our futures here encased in flesh and filled with the flow of life in their
Blood as their tiny hearts
Pump
to the electronics of their brains
That grasp at the first piece of information that they learn
Upon their arrival in our world,
Now is the time to breath.
As that first intake of air fills their lungs
They start to learn
From what is outside of the womb,
The place where for the last nine months they had
Safely grown,
Nourished by the blood of their mother,
Who would softly talk to them through the walls of her stomach
As they
Moved around inside of her.
Laughter’s tears indeed.
How do you measure this love?
What of the love shared in the creation of this life?
The two who made a union with each other,
Creating a pact of hearts
Union to bring forth
Into their world one
That was of both of them?
Could I measure the love that bound their coupling
As they moved in each other’s ecstasy?
Their touch of heaven’s essence?
Such power is there in the gift of touch.
Is touch in essence the truth behind the measurement
Of love?
Send me blind and deaf and still touch be remain.
The touch and taste of lips that meet,
The feel of fingers clutching upon each other.
Then there is the smell of love,
when two who do truly love each other
they produce a scent
that only they can smell.
Sight and hearing are nothing when in love
.
A measurement of love?
Love is immeasurable!
The infinite will dance to the power of one kiss
And the stars will fall as breath is shared.
Only a fool would attempt to measure love.
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