Love (a poetic/theological attempt)

Love is both more violent and less so than any tired modern description.

THere was this thought rushing around
and darting in and out of my ears
and up through my skull
like the busting blood of those naked
celtic warriors, chewing their drugs
screaming and holding axes.

But my thought is about love.
I see that the world is lost without love
and is actually upheld on love and by love.

The problem is the american romantic bubble gum,
shiny paper, pulpy love that goes around these days
and passes for love. Or the tired physical love that
needs diet pills and photo shop and deceitful moans.
Our love has grown false and superficial and so has our humanity.

THe love I am talking about has nothing to do with all that.
I am talking about the love between a farmer and his plot of dirt,
I am talking about the love between a Father and his son,
I am talking about the love between a woman and a good meal,
I am talking about the love between a man and his wife
and the love between a woman and her husband,
I am talking about the love between a child and wonder,
I am talking about the love between God and his creation.
I am talking about the love between creation and their GOD.

THis love lifts up and fills with purpose.
This love knows duty and responsibility.
This love has a plan. This love will fight and pray and smile
and enjoy and suffer and long and bless.
This love will hate. This love will hate the enemies and
naysayers and all that stand against,
between and opposed.

UNLESS there is a possibility that these enemies can be
brought into this love. Then there will be hope
and grace and long-suffering and forgiveness.

This is love.