Love letter # 291
The wellspring of my fortitude is the river of my pain – and the light that I see by is the thrower of my deepest shadows. It is you – my dawn and my night. And your blessed kiss – which is my succour and my suffering.
When we love we open the gates to the vast and contrary flood – to the wisdom that knows nothing – to the idea that is not an idea. It is not an attainment but a surrender. I have neither won you, nor been claimed by you. I have simply allowed myself to fall from the sky with you. Like rain. Like settling dew.
We are the pearls of accident – the darlings of just because – and ours is the blind divine.