Love with all your might

*

Listen to this life it’s all yours too

Love this life with all its shifting shape movements

Dream the dreams you dare and breathe them in full

Love with all your might it is your right

*

Listen to the occupy movers singing your freedom

Listen to the heartbeat of nature’s song it’s your song

Dream the impossible possible and breathe it in full

Love with all your might it is your right

*

Listen to Spring, Summer, Winter, Fall

Listen to each season’s rhythm it is your all

Dream the chimes of freedom and breathe them full

Love with all your might it is your right

*

The Courage to Love

Maybe I am a foolish dreamer but I believe love – real love – is very likely the greatest gift life offers us. I think if you are afforded the possibility of real romantic love you are, well, a fool if you allow things like a single tattoo (which I don’t have) or facial hair (which I do have) to be deal breakers. You are equally foolish if you let the size of a woman’s breasts or the length of her legs guide your decision making.

It seems to me many have a plethora of reasons, some conscious, some not so conscious, for avoiding real love. What is his or her schooling? Have they been to college? What did his or her parents do for a living? She or he has a child already? He or she has been married before? She or he is five feet tall? Six feet tall?

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the human species is ineffably gifted at coming up with reasons to avoid real love. I remember many years ago going out with a woman for a brief time. We liked each other and all was going well and one evening over dinner she said, I’ve been meaning to ask, what sign are you? Not seeing the bear trap on the ground in front of me, I said, Libra. A look of unutterable horror came over her face. Oh Peter, she said, in a tone so troubled you’d have thought every one she knew just died, We don’t get along. Instantly realizing I was facing a mountain that called for oxygen tanks to summit, I said, What the hell we been doing up to now? She shook her head, put her fork down on the table and said, I should go. I agreed. She left. I finished my meal.

Now I know there are underlying reasons for why we run from or avoid the possibility of love. Nearly always these reasons are found in the soil of our histories. We’ve been wounded before, we’ve been betrayed before. We’ve turned our hearts loose before only to have them gutted. In some instances we were raised in ways that taught us we weren’t much worth loving. So, if you find yourself falling in love, or faced with the possibility of falling in love and being loved, just think, if you run, your history wins – again. Your history does not deserve that kind of decision making power. You do.

If You Need Me

If you need me, I’ll be there, with kind arms waiting, no furrowed brow for you.

Daylight comes and daylight goes, dreams seem to do the same, but I tell you

If you need me, I’ll be there, bringing you a cup of tea sweetened with a smile

From me because you are you and that’s all you need to be

If you need me, I’ll be there.  In coming storms or in the thick of pain, during times

Of hunger and lost hopes and lives, I’ll be there, in your dreams, in your heart always

If you need me, I’ll be there, in the song of the morning birds, the early day sun glowing

Warmth into your heart, because I love you, you know that, I am there, you can hug me

If you need me, I’ll be there, in the quiet and in the loud, in the darkness and in the light

In the rhythm of your footsteps in the morning and in the night I am there always

If you need me, I’ll be there, because you are you and that’s all you need to be

In life and past it, I’ll be there, loving you, always, because you are you and I am me

It Is Always

In the soft-sweet chambers of the dreaming human heart, hope draws its finest breath. There, in the rhythmic blood-flow butterfly-filled moment, the bond begins. There the ineffable connection between two people, exquisite as the diamond-lacing of morning dew on a blade of grass, all the fathoms of the soul strong, is born. There ,love begins, and, if we stay out of its way, grows. It is life and death’s finest gift. It is always.
______________________________________________________________________

A Beautiful Breathing Truth

What now this fear of love?

This fear to allow yourself full length into the heart of another, and allow them full length into your heart. What good the fear? What good if all it does is guarantee the solitude of your soul, keeping the undeserved chill in your heart perpetually, a chronic ticking loneliness.

What now this fear of love?

I challenge it. Alone now, maybe. But I lay down the challenge. Life is too short. Mine is. Isn’t yours? Anyone’s? To allow the fears born of our histories so much sway they rob us still? I say fuck that.

What now this fear of love?

Challenge it. Isn’t it really the fear of being unloved? Now that, my dear reader, is scary. Love is a beautiful breathing truth. It makes all things grow, flourish, breathe, live! The blooming tip of possibility unveiled! Yes, for you too.

What now this fear of love?

I say banish it.

_______________________________________________________________