Palm Sunday. Passion Sunday. Thinking about a lot; much of it goes back to love. Not the frilly, two-dimensional kind of love, but the kind of love that wants only to make room for life - that refuses to conform to expectations, however messianic they may be.
Thomas Merton, "Night Letter V"
Thomas Merton, "Night Letter V"
Love is not itself
Until it knows it is frail
And can go wrong
It does not run
Like a well-oiled machine
Is nonpolitical
Nobody votes for love
Love wins
Because it is bad business
And loses everything
Love can never really begin
Until both lovers
Are bankrupt
Love runs best
When it seems to break down
When no amount of driving
Can rev it
No amount of gas
Can make it go
Love runs well
When it runs by itself
Without the help of man
Love goes best
When we seem to resist
And then it starts by miracle
And runs on air only
Until the end of the world
No comments:
Post a Comment