Falling in Love

What would it take to fall in love this spring?

Are you looking for love this coming spring? Have you considered the required patience and perseverance, the endurance and courage necessary to become a lover? Admiration is seeing the best in another – could there be love without the appreciation of what is best in another person? 

Perhaps we should watch what we pray for because we just might get it. That is, we might get the opportunity to fall in love this spring season. What could happen? Well, the season might come and go without much excitement if we don’t take notice. Falling in love requires noticing it! Otherwise it will just be spring fever.

Love poetry, prayer, and falling in love all have one thing in common, and that is willingness to understand. We have to grow up to become lovers. Love relationships are the highest form of the art of relationship and require the same specialization as any of the other fine arts do. It takes work to be in a love relationship, but the rewards can be grand.

So here I offer you a prayer poem as an exercise to test some of your faculties required in becoming a lover. We can give it a try and see how well we do. Put your patience, perseverance, endurance and courage to the test. Read it, understand it, but do not give up. Every romantic affair requires romantic gestures and you cannot get more romantic than a love poem. Consider writing your own. Here is an example: 

O Lord, when I am not vastly engaged in admiration, I scatter my full attention, I neglect the precious rose of my heart, and I foolishly burn it! I become an undying bush in flames, a grand song fallen on deaf ears, blinded by fears and desolate games.

 O Lord, make me hear, make me see, make me notice…

 For I can be only the gardener or else the woodsman of the fall, chopping at my limbs as deadwood, and burn in outer fires too weak to warm a frozen heart.

 To spring and not the fall I choose. The faith of ages buried in the cry of sages hint at a thousand petal rose, hidden in the bosom of a bud, frozen somewhere in my heart.

 Perhaps of fires I must dream, the treachery of the spinner’s spin. I scorch my wickedness knowing, that’s what burns when my soul’s at the dreamer’s whim. With my winter veil ablaze, my blindness slowly opens revealing a blooming wonder. Thus I see, this glorious Love that I am.

Ah it is spring again and I awaken.