My love story is laden with unlikeliness, and met with disbelief
I have a mad true tale to tell you, of redeeming love as unlikely and essential as redemption itself
my love is not believable unless you can believe, nor provable unless you test
I want you to see my love for you as I do, as a blessed sea-change in my soul
as mysterious
and linked to God as every truly soulful thing is. It is grace unearned.
My love for you is the overthrowing of small good things for great ones,
My love for you is a revolution against dismal expectations, half hearts and half measures.
There is no controller, no governor of love, it pops like flowers through our tired sidewalks, where it will,
bright petals against gray.
Love is not a zero sum game of losers and winners but the approach to love’s door
is treacherous, as every wounded heart can attest.
There is no science of love, nor organized agencies of love, though some make the claim,
statistics cannot chart it, nor prediction find it, nor expert testimony confirm it.
Love is found not in safety, through exhaustive research, or any collective judgement pro or con,
Love is the end of shopping, of the hard bargain, of grudging and holding out, comparing for the best deal.
Love seems mad to those who do not, and a flat memory of could to those who can’t. Love is the dammed up river
in every human heart.
Love and the magic in it BECOMES when two hearts admit it,
a shared smile cuts an exit from emptiness and two pass through, as the gates to the garden move open,
love calls magic to exist, and you cannot know magic without it
love is the unforbidding of itself. The releasing, revealing, recognizing, and receiving of itself.
Love makes possible both flight, and the ascendant soul.
Love is the heart at last released outside to run and play like joyful dogs along the river trail
Love is restoration, the engine of forgiveness, and the place made ready for peace. The place where differences matter least.
Love is the gravity of life.
Love is the unreserved kiss, it is lust turned sacrament, the unshaming of Adam and Eve, the many economies of joy
love is the absurd, complete undeserved welcome of our truest self by its truest twin,
Love is what mirrors see in themselves.
Hugh Miller
