The
workings of life enfold unto Love,
Revealing
in faith fortune from above,
Divine
mystery so alluring we hasten to see,
Just how God has destined us to be
free.
Things we
can’t help—wanting to be accepted,
And
struggle as we do when we’re rejected,
Frustration
and anger feigns our loss,
If only hope would now become our
boss.
The
romance of a thing exuding all power,
Bliss and
ecstasy with which to shower,
When we’re
on the side of a thing called Love,
We feel with the grace of the divine
dove.
But depths
of pain are known to her,
Because
Love’s the power known to incur,
A thing so
hard, so terribly unjust,
Grief’s now a place where travel
we must.
Flavours
of love—unlimited they are,
In varying
directions that take us afar,
All purposed
in stretching our capacities to learn,
Just so we might have the poise to
discern.
Familial
and congenial and infatuatedly too,
Emotive
conveyance is every bit true,
Such
things heap our hearts—uncompromisingly tough,
Whichever way we look at it, love
is rough.
But if
Love’s to be learned—a thing to be embraced,
Surely we’re
to come to it with a sense of haste,
Learning’s
a thing to advise what’s due,
To give wisdom in matters all too
true.
Eventually
we’ll reflect on what’s become,
Happiness
much or maybe just some,
Love’s no
fabrication—no dreamy affair,
But it often has its way if only
we’ll dare.
Enjoyment
or loathing and all between,
Dimensions
of love all to be seen,
All
experiences, as a fact, because we care,
All of us goes into it with none
to spare.
Grace does
accord pleasantries anew,
A broader
love—our souls to imbue,
Richness
to be whole, the warrant of the Lord,
In faith our love’s resiliently
shored.
When all
of life’s been spent here on earth,
And
perhaps we’re solemn in our tribal dearth,
We can
know for sure there’s more to come,
Love’s the Message, the Hope, the
consummate Sum.
***
The Summum Bonum is
Omnibenevolence: the highest good. It is love. God is Love. And love
encapsulates all things. We enjoy life because of love. We grieve because of
love. We suffer because of love. Everything of meaning has its meaning in love.
Though it’s a source of our
disengagement it’s also the source for our rendezvous for a more meaningful
life. It breaks us but just as formidably reassembles us, better than before.
When we live for love, no matter what we go through, there is peace at the end.
© 2012 S. J. Wickham.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.