Love

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 he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.

...

All these 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.

...

Love has no other desire but to fulfil 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 painn 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 noon hour and meditate love's ectasy,
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.


- The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran -