Restless Love

ST1

Love; that immaterial seed producing material fruit.

I once sought you with effervescent diligence.

Twice you past me by for another.

The third time I claimed you as my own.

But still you held yourself afar off from me.

ST2

Upon finding you, I ceased to look for you--

to know you, to plumb the depths of you.

In my arrogance I thought of you as a material preference.

More to be desired than the material fruits I hated;

a mere, 'would be nice,' to top the cake of life.

ST3

When I saw my other preferences, I lusted after them

and did not see them as coming from you.

As a result, they eluded me--no indeed,

they avoided me with all intention

until I divined that you had once again deserted me.

ST4

But you had not deserted me--I had deserted you.

Wandered off looking for the fulfilment of my preferences.

But you waited, scolding at times my fruitless, loveless wandering.

Until here I sit, pondering your nature again.

Mulling over your immaterial presence and the gifts you now freely give.

Commentary

A sudden thought that occurred to me today is that love is more than the fulfilment of my personal preferences in life; more than who I married, more than my favourites and my comforts. Indeed, in my faith I am called to, 'love,' my enemies. This love transcends any idea of favouritism being at the root. The above is a confession to love of my personal wandering and a commitment to continuing plumbing the depths of love's true nature.