Book of Love

Book of Love

Truly loving another means letting go of all expectations.” -Karen Casey, 1939

It was a beautiful day in April when I first met you, the afternoon sun, glistening off your hair, matching only the radiance of your precious soul.
I did not know of the true reality of life, it’s reason, it’s path, like all humans in their youthful arrogance or exuberance; I thought I did. I learned of death at an early age, with my surfing I learned the power of quality escape, I learned there was more to the heart and soul than meets the eye; but through all the degradation in my young life, I was unknowingly aware of life.
Somehow on the day I met you, all I saw was your presence in my life, such a beautiful presence, life till that moment had little calm, little peace in the movement of time. Simply repetitious moments of toil and play, a passing of life before the hands on the human clock; can’t even call the toil and play survival, just simply existing from birth to an unknown end somewhere down the line.
The paths of souls on this earth, no one but God could ever see the crossing of the paths. You went your way, I went mine, no I love you’s passed, such cards were not dealt us at the time. Somehow, an importance had been set, a connection made, the invisible touch so strong; undetected in its softness.
But the memory of you stayed, the forgetting never became a reality, the morning sun at your back, the golden hues, your softness the picture in my mind; the little known never-ending story.
Years pass, more toil, survival of life and limb, moments of life and death, as God intends for us all; all of which we humans are supposed to learn from. If we do, we will as human’s survive, if we don’t, then our ignorance in life will be our demise. We, you and I, we lived our lives apart, learning, living, compliant to life as we knew it to be; trying to understand the path, trying to understand life as we see it before our separate lives.
Miles driven, always passing by but never stopping. The flights taken, never seeing the future home below. Like the two ship’s in the night, paths destined to cross, never to touch, the control not ours.

True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen.” -François VI, Duc de La Rochefoucauld, 1613-1680

Life is an ocean, with many ships that pass in the night, captains of our own destinies for sure in our own minds; but are we really sure of where we are heading in our lives?
When we are playing with life, it’s an imposing thought that we should be learning life as we go along in our many journeys; all too often, the real truths and mysteries of life are ignored. The books of life’s wisdom are always closed by those that refuse in their haste to listen or learn, such haste is malevolent to the truest meaning of life; and Love. The rarely viewed yet melancholic truth of today, is that little wisdom of life is shared without a monetary cloak of popularity; leaving the youthful lovers life of tomorrow in the throws of future calamities.

The human heart, at whatever age, opens only to the heart that opens in return.” -Maria Edgeworth, 1767-1849

We didn’t ask for our love, oh but such a beautiful gift, the first meeting so long ago, yet it collected little dust, and no tattered edges. The beach of Malibu, letting two dogs run, taking pictures of Palm trees in the fog, idle chatter with depth filling the moments from one to the next. Unwittingly involved in constructive conversations, exploring the mind rather than the body, it wasn’t till later on our path that I took note of the air beneath your feet; the door of clarity was creaking to an openness of mind body and soul.
Human emotions, the trickster of anyone’s existence, anger, fear, there is an emotion for every feeling we may have in our human existence. Ours was love, emotion controlled, yet the feelings strong, the yearning true, every minute a missing of more than the stigmata of the public’s perception of love.
What started in the mind was nurtured in the soul, no mile apart went unseen, or unheard in the heart; always a wanting of more. ‘More’ to the greedy of the masses, produces tension in a loss, on to the next conquest they go. But for us we included substance to the depth of our conversations of life, of every place and thing; making every journey a treat, no matter where or when. How often our hearts were the guide, how often we saw more of what was before us, while those around us visited in haste, never seeing what we savored in life. We would stop and breathe in the Redwoods, others were content to fly over; but that was the depth of our love, every breath taken was a memory kept and savored.

To be able to say how much you love is to love but little.” -Petrarch [Francesco Petrarca], 1304-1374

Never knowing the depth of our love was more of a gift, it was never that important to us, but the investment in our love was important to us. Love is never monetary, there is no amount of gold found in love, like some hedge fund for the future. Appallingly alarming these days, the value set on love, it’s like a picture of gold; with nothing to back it up. No matter the size of the bank account, no matter the stockpile of goods, when one leaves this earth leaving the other behind, if a deep and honest love is the paramount common denominator; then love will override the value of anything materialistic in the life left behind. Nothing else will matter, simply the peace that we might gather till it becomes our time of leaving.
Such a time teaches the living a valuable lesson, love in life is all that matters, love feeds us our creativity, our survival in this life. Love gives us our drive that pushes us forward even when now alone, love is the lifeblood of us all; an honest love is not confused, nor does love leave us. Love is not a river of repetitious words, love is life confirming selfless actions shared between two souls.
Discount God, heaven, discount the soul if that is the way you or anyone lives; but heaven and the soul, there is a connection there that has been defying even the smartest minds for centuries in their denouncing and denial of God. So much, that the only way they can fend off the proof of their ignorance, their lack of knowledge in the matter; is to teach that God is a myth, that there is nothing real or viable in the subject of faith in a higher power.

“There is a land of the living and a land of the dead, and the bridge is love.” -Thornton Niven Wilder, 1897-1975

To the family, our Faith in God and heaven was real, agree or disagree, keep your disrespect to yourself. It is the fault of many to lump God and Faith into the murky pool of religion, hating everything on the subject; but who is to say that through their lack of understanding, they may very well be losing everything that may be important in the end. In my end, I will not seek the jewels in my crown, only the grace of God; and to hold once more the hand of the Lady that keeps the light burning in that heavenly window.
There is a bridge for every human being on this earth that leads to heaven, it’s built on love, not hate or drama; and Faith adds strength to love. I often think about those people that marry for money power or looks, will they understand what a life without true love will be like? In their old age, I guess they will.
Sir Henry Wotton, 1568-1639, part of the book of wisdom that has been closed, especially due to people’s ignorance today, he said: “Love lodged in a woman’s breast is but a guest.” The examples are many for our children to see, on the streets of this country, there are no parental codes for what they will see and learn, all that is taken or seen as normal.
We could see no reason to contribute to society, to cheapen our love to fit into the norm of society; such a way of living did not entertain our minds, let alone our hearts and souls. In her last breath, her last moment here on this earth, it’s our love she felt, it was my arms holding her; our love, was the blanket that comforted her. And if she were as in the movies, after her passing, if her spirit were floating above our bodies, one breathing and one not; she would have seen our last kiss here on earth.
So many people these day’s die alone, their family members don’t care, or they live in the moment or coldness of life as it is lived today, but she wanted for nothing; because of a love that was taken serious and overcame so much.

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