How do we discover the addenda of a previous lifetime,
a footnote of similitude manifesting in an umbrage;
the seeming womb; that we then so spontaneously
find it recurring in our break and breath of life. The first cry of
a mortal pining for something! Have we a memory of
the objectification of love like a divine recall, rather than
the object of it(?), so that in a mortal assumption the
objectification and the object become enmeshed in a
reality of relationships. In our youth, we discover that the
pining goes beyond parental or sibling necessity to a
besotment with infatuation when we look out in obsessive
but innocent wander! Can love be defined by such carnal
innocence? So, love be defined in its objects of attraction.
How pure is it when it ceases to be mother and father; or
does the subsequent peerage become prevalent out of
disillusionment with homegrown empathy. What can be
called the contents of discontentment that prompt such pining? Do we even
break with peerage that replaced family with the need to get started
on another family? And does being parented echo in the
spontaneity to parent? Love flows like a light that needs a
continuity of espousal; so that when we fail at one thing, we tend
to graduate to another! When do we eschew of something so
intricate that we identify it without defining it? Is it when we are
absolutely shattered that the idea of it becomes a gross
cynicism or even an utter abhorrence? Or do some of us attain
the self-awareness of Empaths, where love no longer need be a
conflagration as we divest of passion or pursuit and make love
a secret subtlety of universality or an admission in symbolic sage-like
sagacity, indulging in a celibacy of reflective nurturing and nourishing;
making love the subject of its pure ascendant in immortality with
the understanding that the conflict of love can be entirely left behind in its
biosphere of attachments and the idea of both the objectification
and the object of pure love be found in the luminosity of eternity!
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