Sometimes the intellect of one's being finds no way to express that which it feels deep inside.
There are no words eloquent enough , no talent great enough to relay that which is felt.
It is just as well to ask a sunrise to describe itself, or a mother to explain her instincts.
Oh, surely history records exemplary standards of philosophical thought,
but what is love's standard within a human soul? That which melds us together in fellowship, allowing -even driving- one person to relinquish their life for another.
That which brings us to hold someone and cry with them in their grief and brokenness,
two spirits uniting in something much deeper than speech or any other human contrivance.
It is this innate quality which drives us in so many odd directions, for I believe, love's standard within the human soul is quite frightening to us.
How deliciously intriguing, this inherent calling to reach out, to share, makes us recoil in fear from these very souls we are drawn to.
Surely this is the cause of so much heartache, oppression,and distancing of one soul from another.
How very distressing that we fail to embrace that which we feel calling within our being.
What is, then this love's standard within the human soul, how do we accept that which we shrink from so readily?
I can imagine certain ways it would reflect in souls around us...
no more crushing of another's dream, for we would want; no need; to inspire them on to that dream.
I can see love, and joy, and trust, in children's eyes, rather than fear , and dejection, and hate.
No more hoarding of treasures, until everyone has had their needs fulfilled.
There would be no one left to cry alone in the night, our hearts would ache with theirs, and drive us to be a companion in their dark hour.
Tender hearts would not be forced into hardness or brokenness due to the savageries of their fellow beings.
People of all ages and distinctions could be free to engage with one another freely, without worry of labels and misinterpretation of their delight in each other.
Perversion of this standard would not exist, love would be for the others' sake, if an action or deed would stain another, we would recognize this and not pursue the deed.
Your cut would be my cut, your blood would be my blood, your need would be my need.
I believe this is what we experience deep within our beings, which brings a lump in our throat, a tear in the eye , and goose bumps to our flesh.
It would seem the only way to share this standard is to pour it out freely.