I wanted to write about love and wondered how to begin. Like the freshman philosophy major mulling over existence in a vintage coffee bar then asking Socrates so what do you think? There's those rare birds when SMACK, the answer actually is bigger than the question, so enormously big that the question can't hold it all in and is afraid, seriously afraid, to be asked at all. Here is the keen latitude where a question observes its own smallness, stripped down poetry like humility upon gravel beneath waters because the answer could build a stone empire up to the heavens upon its rickety back, or create an avalanche so mighty that all matter collides, every direction smashing circuits, one giant bursting golden cloud shimmering dust, covering space, mixing air, down and down into the dwelling hearts of earth. Yes Love is. Bigger than a simple rule though it is simply the greatest rule.
Once upon a time a person was given life and was born, a whole long life made up of days and days and days and days so endless that they felt like they would never end, and the great I Am asked the person to love Me and to love them and to love again and to love again and yes to love again and the person replied that's it? But on the last day of her first life in the last air of her last breath she exhaled and said oh, that's it.
That's it.
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