The State of Love


Which are we?

Those who know
love needn't be object-oriented
or those who worship individuals,
expecting reciprocal gratification?

Might there be love without object or flesh,
love which demands no entity,
but lives within,
a sentient ability to be,
see,
smell,
taste
hear,
and touch consciousness?

Might our truth be corrupted?

Like a desert of sand,
our kernels of existence,
are subject to endless dust storms,
that which life's turbulent patterns stir up
and foist on our awareness as the only actuality—
becoming our manufactured construct of control.

Might such influence
be void of love’s true principal?

To experience the act of giving love, receiving love,
exercising a willingness to be in that “state of love,”
where the animals, trees, plants, flowers,
and the human spirit, sharing the sublime,
giving back a part of infinity's passion
as a way to show gratitude for humanity’s short journey…

Is there any other way to fully live?

Yet…

As a species, we so often exercise our meaning of love
by clinging to another person, believing the other person
embodies the whole of love so vociferously.

Might we be too preoccupied with experiencing passion
for another as the quintessential manifestation,
taking little notice of Nature’s innocent caressable realities,
Nature's infinite support system that asks for nothing
but our unqualified living with the grace of love,
void of any simpleton-resistance.

Might it be wise to stop a few moments…

Focus on our breathing…

Realize, like one’s breath, being in a state of love is not about possessing,
but becoming said emotion.