Valentines
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Then
said Almitra, "Speak to us of Love."
And
he raised his head and looked upon the people,
and there fell a stillness upon them.
And
with a great voice he said:
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
when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though
his voice may shatter your dreams
as
the north wind lays waste the garden.
For
even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you.
Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even
as he ascends to your height and caresses your
tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So
shall he descend to your roots and shake
them in their clinging to the earth.
Like
sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He
threshes you to make you naked.
He
sifts you to free you from your husks.
He
grinds you to whiteness.
He
kneads you until you are pliant;
And
then he assigns you to his sacred fire,
that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred
feast.
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.
But
if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and
love's pleasure,
Then
it is better for you that you cover your nakedness
and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into
the seasonless world where you shall laugh,
but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all
of your tears.
Love
gives naught but itself and takes naught but from
itself.
Love
possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For
love is sufficient unto love.
When
you love you should not say, "God is in my heart,"
but rather, I am in the heart of God."
And
think not you can direct the course of love,
if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
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 pain 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 the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
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.
~Gibran
Khalil Gibran~
About Love
The Prophet (1923)