An Ode to Love

Love. What is it? Can one see it or sense it? Perhaps even smell it, were it such a thing to be smelled. Can one stroke it as tenderly as a new born babe or the petals of a flower? If so, then is love as breakable?

Does love wash upon the shore and as quickly leave again?

I am no expert on love but this I have learned.

When one loves, then that love protects. Do not deceive yourselves the giver may but bestow it on another. Let me make it clear to whom the protection is given. Not to the giver, but rather from them.

They in fact lose the protection they once had. For when one is alone they have no one to protect but themselves. When one loves they have the chance to lose it. Their protection precedes them. It is thinned out enough to be given shakily to both or all to one.

There is no such thing as protecting one’s heart. Perhaps you can guard your heart, metaphorically but that can only be had for so long.

Love it not getting spat on by some miscellaneous dewdrops. Love is jumping feet first into the ocean. Perhaps it is also getting into the pool water slowly, but at some point your head needs to go under.

Love might be like holding your breath long enough to see what is under the surface. After that the decision to stay in the water or leave it is up to you. Still there is no denying the dripping hair or the soaked clothes after getting out. The fact is the longer you’re in the water the longer it takes to heal.

Love is getting prune-y in the water.