On considering the possibility of love...

What a brave and reckless thing we do

When we put our heart in the hands

Of another.

Some say foolish.

I might agree, except for that feeling

Of absolute certainty

When one first falls in love.

It is a moment when truths come to light,

When the lost are found,

When destiny and serendipity inexplicably

And perfectly entwine.

So who am I to say “foolish”?

What is foolishness, but to laugh in the face of the unknown?

To tread again on a path of prickly briars

And not fear its lashes?

For love holds no malice,

Just exquisite pain.

And what is a little pain?

What, even, is a tidal wave of pain –

When paired with the illogical beauty

That is love?

So let my heart break again.

I fear not the tears, nor the ache,

Nor the break.

Because in the cracks, love winds its way

Back to the source.

And a heart is born from ash.

E.D.H.