What is this strong pull you feel for another human being as if out of the blue? Is it because you are starved for love, and another offers it or the illusion of it? Is love something more? There is love that seems greater than romance. There is love that is not illusion, love that comes from somewhere and enriches itself. This love certainly seems ordained. This love certainly seems meant to be. This love is so rich.

Heads are bowed, and two pairs of eyes look up, and love circles the Earth and beyond. Something happens. Fast or slow, something happens. Yet love was never not. Life is an occasion for love. Love may take you by surprise, yet True Love has been looking for you all your life, and you have been looking for it. You have been waiting for love all the time that it has been right there waiting with you.

Love is greater than a tryst. It is greater than a pitter-pat of the heart. It is greater than an explosion of emotion. Whatever words you use to describe love, love is something more. On this sometimes torn Earth, two hearts meet, and invoke love in each other.

Out of all the sand on the beach, two seeds find themselves side by side together. Two hearts meet and meet again. Sparks of love light up the world. Two people have found each other’s hearts. It cannot be an accident. Two hearts touch, and that is enough to say. Two hearts of Mine on this vast Earth touch, and love ventures forth. There is always more love. How you would like to know all the circuitry of love. Let Us just say that love met itself on its way to the fair.

Beautiful is love as it stirs. Something beautiful happens. This love asks for nothing but to be allowed, free to be whatever it is. There is an idea that love on Earth is a risk. Only if you try to take and hold it to you as a possession is love a risk. It is not for you to pin love down. Make no demands of love. Love is a butterfly that must be free.

Love must just be allowed to be. Love takes no prisoners. Love is free, or it is not love. Love predicated within certain parameters is not love. Love can only be what it is. It is not a certain prescription. Love cannot be defined, yet it can be known.

One heart meets another in happiness. Hearts touch, and the world spins. How can this be? And yet it is. Two hearts search all over the world to find each other. The love already was, and two hearts meet, yet they do not have to be the two hearts they once were. Love is on the wing, and love strikes like a match. Love is a conversation of souls regaining a certain configuration of themselves. Two hearts meet again, and the meeting of hearts is named love on one frequency or another.

Love cannot be caught. Love must freely announce itself in all its glory.

Love seems to fall out of the sky. You were always meant to catch love. Love is common at the same time as it is magic. Love is always right around the corner. It hovers, and then it announces itself. You may have fought against love, objecting to love because you may feel that you are lost when you have been found. You have had this feeling before, and you have not been able to sustain it. You have perhaps felt fooled by love because your vast feelings did not stay, and love pitifully was not what it was advertised to be.

Love may come in a flash, yet love is sustained in a way that you may not yet grasp. Love is not a gimme interaction nor is it a sacrifice. You cannot mold love. Love has to be itself. Love lets go of objection. Too much is not to be expected of love. It is yourself you are to come to love.