Love letter # 291

The wellspring of my fortitude is the river of my pain; and the light that I see by is the maker of my deepest shadows.

It is you – my dawn and my night. And your blessed kiss. 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.