The North Wind

I just woke up a few minutes ago. Something came over me earlier today, and I couldn't keep my eyes open. My legs ache and I feel weak.

"For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you.
Even as he is for your growth, so is he for your pruning.

Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,

So shall he descend
to
your
roots
and
shake
them
in
their
clinging to the earth. "

For years I had that written on the wall above my bed. Some passion came over me and I did it without even thinking. I finally painted over it a few years ago, but it's still there. I can't see it, but I can smell it.

I don't know if this counts as what I learned today, but I had a realization right before I crawled out of bed just now.

I'm sick of poetry.

I'm sick with poetry.

I'm sick.
I need to eat a steak.

For the rest of what Kahlil Gibran has to say about love, click the X below.

X

And I absolutely love this.