What is love? (as written sometime in March 2008)

Love is so different each time you feel it, it's caging freeing learning dying outstretched arms, all-encompassing. Sweeps softly, hits hard never know where it's taking you. Guess the one thing in common is that I'm led there. Love always leads the way. Guides me, holds my hand and head when I need it, out reaching branches into a vast void of growing living things, that one tie to the rest of what is good in the world. Seashells and stones, all permanent, and in contrast is me - sitting on such pillars, monuments of that permanence, and all I am is flesh organs feelings temporary. This breeze hits me as a transient voice speaking what I need to hear, love is in the air as they say and here it comes. A gushing, blustery, unfeeling force, cold or hot, gentle or fierce, always changing like love does. I cannot adjust to it, always putting on or taking off a jacket or sweater or sheild from letting these things hurt me or grace me. Locking it all out is what I do, I suppose. Idyllic scenery, tumultous forthcoming of doubt from my elbow moving at the joint and allowing this hand to transcend its own consience and just record what's required of it. It's calming now, is it ever enough? Is this love ever enough for me? No, I say. I must dig, chip away at sedimental impact to find my core, my heart underneath the sedimental accumulation, calloused and hard but yearning to be found. Find a way. Nine more minutes, all I have to this world. What will I say within them? What can I convey while the arms keep moving, how will my words affect this place? They won't. I'm glad. I'm glad my doubts, ruminations of impractical and irrational ideas never reach any other eyes or ears. Don't think about it, some say, but I say think all you want. It won't change the world but it can change you, save you, from diving off into some lost cavernous existence not knowing who you are at heart. Love isn't cloudlike, isn't similar to anything else. Its definition is exclusive to its own vocabulary untranslatable to English or any other audible language. It's soley felt within. I just hope that, amidst all this uncertainty, I can feel it to the extent of sustaining reciprocated love on what I can give to another. I am afraid of giving too much for fear of not receiving it back, but that's how the story goes. Selflessness is the epitome of gifting yourself to someone else. I know one thing for certain among all of this - the one thing in this world that will sustain me is love, always.