Another poem on love and God

Photo by Anete Lūsiņa on Unsplash

I don’t know if I can say that God IS love.
But, who knows? 
By the end of this piece, maybe I can.

So many of us (me included) have a wretchedly insecure and weak grasp on love that I’m afraid that if we equated God to love, we’d be equating God to insecurity, shame, helplessness, and manipulation.

Let’s not do that…
Not today, at least.

What I can say is that God is like Love. 
Love with a capital ‘L’. 
Real Love. 
The Love that emerges before the ego gets a hold of it.

Because you can’t see, touch, or taste love. 
But love calls everything into existence.

Love is not the animated.
Love is what animates.
(You can just switch out ‘Love’ for ‘God’ in those last two lines.)

Love isn’t the bottle of wine. 
It’s the thing that brings meaning 
and intention 
to the wine.

When the Love is gone, 
the bottle of wine is a bad habit, 
at best.

Love is not the wine.
Or the chocolates.
Or the flowers.
Or the… 
Nevermind.

Love is the formless something 
that brings the lovingness 
to these things.

This is the nature of God to me. 
Before the forms and objects.
The source out of which 
the Love emerges
the Life emerges
the Good emerges.

(I could go on.)

Damn it…
We’re all out of chocolates.

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