Love
Why is love such a hard thing to obtain, such a hard thing to grab, a dandelion seed floating in the air, moving just out of reach with every stab into the empty atmosphere. We know of its value, we know all the clichés, we know what to say, we know we like it (a lot). But we can never grab it. As I look around at the world and wonder how we can treat each other this way, every day I live in a microcosm which shows me that I, above all, am unable to even attempt such a lofty goal, failing every day in my better intentions, instead succumbing to my own needs, desires, expectations, insecurities, inabilities.
I am most definitely the one billionth person to ask “How do we love?” It’s a question that will never be completely answered despite a world full of pat answers anywhere from “Jesus is Love” to “Just Do It.” Perhaps living in the tension of that question and its non-answer is, after it is all said and done, the essence of life itself.
I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch
but love is not a victory march
it’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah
well, maybe there’s a god above
but all I’ve ever learned from love
was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you
it’s not a cry that you hear at night
it’s not somebody who’s seen the light
it’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah</i>