Being Love

Growing up was rarely a struggle for her.

She knew how to speak with grace

When situations required it.

She was kind and understanding.

Wisdom, even prophetic visions, were

ever on her lips. Even so young.

The parts of growing up that troubled

her the most were related to




There was little time for these things.

More important tasks were at hand:

  1. The pursuit of joy
  2. Saving the world
  3. Loving: things, creatures, people
  4. Calling down nature and the gods from their heavenly homes to come and comfort the sick and downtrodden
  5. Just staying alive

The weight of these tasks was immense

on her shoulders, smoldered in her mind.

If she didn’t do these things, who would?

So, rather than becoming a grown-up,

she became love, entirely, or as much

of her as could be converted to pure love.

and gentleness

and wisdom

and joy

She gave herself wholly to the cause. Others joined in.

Soon the host became so many light balloons

bright colors. Mirth was there. Peace, too.

They became a great cloud of love that

went into all the corners of the earth.

She was there at the core of it.

Pulsing with light.

A heartbeat


The center of love.

Each individual sighing

in unison with all the others.

She was their mother. The origin, the hope

of an eternity where all beings rest in

the soft waves, the gentle breeze,

the brush of ferns underfoot.

Holiness and light.

The joy of the morning.

The hush of night.

The wide, bright sunshine

of a reborn day.

2 thoughts on “Being Love

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