You searched and pined for the one to love,
The perfect one,
The one who would return that love,
Would make you whole.
In each situation,
Your founding expectation rendered this person something other than they were,
An illusory object that you could cradle,
But that was never really yours.
In the end, you didn’t really belong to yourself, either,
Didn’t really know yourself.
All this time, she was out there.
They were out there.
He was out there.
The one who while you searched for them,
Was searching for you.
Exhaustion makes union.
You couldn’t fight anymore, couldn’t search, didn’t care,
And in that moment they arrived:
Your equal, the one to make you whole,
Except you no longer needed that from a person:
You had done it yourself.
And here you are:
Love is like purpose, is like all higher drives in life:
It is not something we choose; rather, it is something that lies waiting for us,
In the same way our parents lay waiting for us,
Our life circumstances,
In the same way the whole world stood ready with breath as we were born,
As if to say, look, here comes a special one.
And we are special, each of us.
Special by virtue of the energy which inspires us,
Threaded through the circumstances which are unique to us,
The circumstances we do not choose.
What are we drawn to? Whom do we love?
These are our purpose and our community, respectively.
What do we follow? In what can we trust to guide us?
These are our heart and, deeper, our soul.
Although we do not choose the circumstances we are allotted,
Perhaps there is something deeper which does choose,
Is choosing to be here, moment by moment, kiss by kiss.
It is the mysterious energy which lives as abundantly in us as it does in that fish,
In that skyscraper, in that stone.
It is quiet, yet vividly alive;
It is the animating energy that wants to exist, that delights in the very fact,
That says yes, yes I will,
Yes, please more,
Yes, oh I love, oh I chance,