Love’s Enigma
by Odin Roark

Who knows love...really?

Try as we might,
many attempts succumb to exhaustion.

Yet, how simple the lesson.
Like a beguiling snow crystal
that waits out its nothingness,
forfeiting its outer appearance,
knowing its essence is but a snow-cloud away.

But we…

How often the heart feels passion's rejection,
senses the rousing of a sabre’s revenge,
reason usually preventing the letting of blood,
knowing such shedding is now forever.

Might it be the state of love,
like the yin and yang of existence,
is trying to teach us that for every touch
there will always be the touched,
that every breath taken
is the recipient of a breath given?

Being “of love” is Nature’s gift in perpetuity,
the collective of wind and cloud,
rain and sun,
growth and decay,
life’s unbridled passion to live.

And so it is with this conundrum called love,
like a cherry stone savored clean,
it awaits its next iteration,
the never ending cycle,
where its blossom and harvest,
knows well awakening is a process,
and… its own enigma.