Caverns of the Heart

should we love, only as love seeks to love us? or, should we love from the depths of the caverns in our hearts? i should say, "love from the caverns," but who, or rightly, how many, know of the actual depth or the very existence of those caverns? love spurred on by passion - this is the thing that will excavate the depth. no other. for other distractions are but shallow tools that can never know the whole truth. how does love seek to love us, that is far different than the love from the depths? love seeks to love selfishly, most often; out of personal gain, and not the shear pleasure of an act. love also seeks to "love" to appease the lust of some thing, object, etc. love is no longer pure in intention or in word or deed. when did this separation begin? the corruption of love most likely, and now that i say "most likely," i am certain the corruption began at the beginning of sin. for how can we love purely without purity. only the love that stems from the passion that begins with Christ can be pure. oh, how do we get there? can we all get there - is it even possible? my personal experience would tell me yes - experience in the sense that i have chanced to meet those whose hearts are open, that they are plumbing the depths of those caverns, and they have found treasure beyond their fallen imaginations. that is where i want, no, it is stronger than that - i long to be there, i long to plumb the depths. to discover the fullness of the love that my heart can offer when correctly opened by passion.

my poem

This is a poem I wrote almost two years ago.

You are the only One

Don't You hear me crying?

The rain falls in torrents

Each drop searing its way to the very core of me

Bursting embers from within scream through what is left of my flesh

Exposed for all to see,

I cowar behind the mirage of a thick, white blanket

I perceive that I am engulfed by the vapor

Only to realize that what I have become is nothing I can hide

The agony of the rain and the burning of all that I hold dear

Brings my torment to its crescendo

Suddenly, I begin to break apart

Crackling and crumbling into heaps of dust

The pain heightens and I fear I will not survive

Through it all You are there, watching in silence

Why don't You help me?

I am dying, please stop the rain!

I collapse, dejected and wounded

All around me the swirling wind whips

And with it takes the unsteady particles that once represented me

Approaching footsteps strike fear, but only for an instant

I have died, what more can be done to me?

Still, You pick me up and begin to dress my wounds

Silently, but steadily You restore me until I can stand

Solely relying on Your strength

It is only then, in Your arms, that my eyes are opened

You brought the rain

Lovely musings

i was thinking about one whom i loved-one of time and place past. i wonder what he is doing now, if he has a new love, if he actually admits to love...as he did not with me. he was somewhat of a springboard inward, a tool used to dig myself out of myself. i can only hope the experience was the same for him. he wrote me a poem once, entitled "the flower that crushed the stone." i was that flower, have i been replaced? i reminisce almost as if this escapade of love had been recent-it was not. time has absolutely gone by, and i have changed and grown, yet i often wonder about this man, this one who had such an affect on me. i wonder if he knows the full extent of all his words at all times. goodness, of course not! do we ever really know the implication of the words we share? we can "intend" and "mean" the snot out of something, and it can be taken completely differently than we meant to say it. he hurt me and i wonder if that is what he thought he was doing or if he just felt that he needed to be honest...or better yet, maybe he couldn't even be honest with himself, therefore he did not, in fact, know what he felt, and that is why he said what he said...believing all the while that he meant it, yet not actually knowing the truth. he would say i am crazy (especially in this bit of a frenzy that i have worked myself into). i just remember knowing how he felt by his actions, not by his words. he contradicted his words with his actions. i know, it is usually the other way around, but not with this one. i still have a place in my heart for him. i no longer wish to be with him, yet he will always be with me in some way. that is the beauty, the pain and everything in between.