By Alba-Maria Grembi
Find the original version here How can one love? How can one feel, and care? That
takeoff — that chilling chasm of the soul. That
someone who can touch and colour; and let the being in your chest
break, as you so wish: until only He knows how to fix it, even if it hurts to see. Love is deep, it doesn’t end with the person, it doesn’t
freeze in time, it doesn't shatter, my heart.
What is man without You? Pelagic being devoid of
the sea. An ocean with no life. No man lives without You: Love knows them
not, before they know You. They are not alive if they haven’t lost life.
Why? So they fear no death. Because, after death — my life — You...
In vain lives the life that Love knows not. Deadly
silence: an empty concoction, without form. Only this—but what is this? It is
in time frozen and dangerous—threatens. Caress without affection; thought
without remorse; mere words, a threat. Mourning that touches not: no memory
brings with it your lost and wanted joy. It has heard, but heeds not. It says
it feels, but feels not. It boasts: it never has crossed death, to hurt for those
who die. But Love has no debt, it does not owe — Love has chosen: to illuminate
the darkness with His breath, so that our eyes may see true Light.
The world speaks of love through its own acts: a
hindrance, it says, that confuses. But that’s the only possible love it
knows: it traps in sweet words, in a poisonous prison without hope,
without light. But do they have Love? Do you hear what they say? — let them
say. Let them challenge and be challenged in a happiness they pursue and
lose; in their own game, they live life and lose. Let them try. They count
experiences and speak — casting their souls into the frozen darkness of the world. But what a
pity that they have no hope, that they do not live in Life!
Also me: I didn’t know, I hadn’t felt. Now I live (and
give); though I do not receive, life is not my gift. It is Love: it is You. I
want to live Your life. Take my life, You — live it in my own voice — hold
it fast, never to be lost again. Even if I hurt; and if I must hurt, a thousand
times let it be: let me be a witness of your Love, let me be a form. A form
full, a form crushed. A form am I, smallest under Your sight.
And now on you (you): did you ever love so
much — as to not know how you lived before? Till you wonder
how you say it, and then you learn that it is not said. It is only a form: One,
self-given that does not threaten. Why do you give yourself up to strangers?
The many know not Love — do not yield yourself to them, you will lose that
learning piece of yours! The many will not know you: they cast you into
falsehood. And you shall hurt, but in a pain empty and useless, without
reaching affection (no, it doesn’t reach affection).
Listen: your soul cries out, it thirsts for Truth;
it wants the Light, to be alive! It wants to teach you Love, but this comes
through patience. You will hold on if you only see that you are merely life — small, imperfect and broken. Love doesn’t come, it’s already there: you should only learn how to see. Don’t give in to the many, that’s only how you miss Love.
And if — if you don’t see it, how will you reach it? You will not die to live:
you will freeze (you will freeze)!
And though I lived, I died: and then by Truth I lived
again — with a gentle sign He touched my weary soul. He gave me breath (and now my breath is His). And now I know unbounded Love, even when the world rejects me — He loves me, who made my heavy burdens light; He, when life kills in treason, graciously offers His salvation.
For You
By Alba-Maria Grembi
Find the original version here
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