A beauty unseen and an emotion unavoidable. You gave birth to the Universe and ended lives on the battlefields. You brought the smiles in pain and tears in celebrations because you have the supernatural powers of healing, afflicting and nothingness. You are that Midsummer night’s dream turning every lover a fool illogical magical being, yet, you are the driving force behind great revolutions. It was you who destroyed Troy and built the Taj Mahal. A letter to love is what i want to have everything. What you are? A mother’s anxiety when her bud is suffering or the writer’s sleepless nights. Probably, you are that survivor who fights to live but maybe you are the failure who craves death. The world was once blaming you for all the chaos and it is loathing you again for leaving it altogether. Have you really left? Perhaps not. A letter to love should have every emotion right? You are hiding somewhere in the small triumphs of doctors saving war-torn bodies, in the victorious campaigns for human rights and in the successful marriages. You are still there in the unexpected smiles of a newborn whose mother died in labor, in the tears of the father who saw his daughter winning. You need to come out with all the pride because you are the basis and soul of life.
Oh love, you sometimes cause disruption they say. It isn’t true. You cannot be nationalism, you cannot be Power, you cannot be Seduction, lust or corruption. You are above concrete and pure from abstract evil. You fall for the beauty that shows up in actions. You crave for the care that is beyond words and you wait for spontaneous moments because planning is against your flowy natural being. Help these people now. Let them find their purpose that has diminished under petty goals of achieving power and currency. They are afraid of your colossal past, but they aren’t either denying tasting your sublimity and save each other of more masks. Do come and free them of every cover they may be wearing to hide what they hold.
It is you, love, who can liberate the cosmos of its bounds and simultaneously put limitations to pessimist outlook. This brings an end to A letter to love and here shall I say goodbye.
Not yet Yours,
A weary Human