The only two things worth living for in this sorrowful world of ours are
love and beauty.
For me, Love represents the best of emotion. The chemical gooiness that
accompanies meeting a special person. Love does not have to be limited to
those of opposite sexes. One can look at a marvelous person and think
that they are special. This is love, maybe on a lower and different note
than the full blown love that we are used to being described, but love
none the less. There is a reciprocated feeling to love. A give and take
on both sides. Both parties must be willing and caring recipiants and
offerers of love for it to be true. Otherwise it is just infatuation or
obsession.
Beauty represents everything else worth caring about. Art, poetry, things
that are necessarily more third person than love. Things that one cannot
be a part of by definition. These things take just as much work to
appreciate as love. For there is often just a one way flow to these
things. Making it tought to gauge where one is in the scope of things.
For instance, I may think that I know all there is to know about a certain
thing of beauty, a play for example, but maybe a new theory comes along
and knocks me on my ass. Showing me that I actually knew absolutely
nothing about something.
Not to say that there cannot be new discoveries in love, there can. I
think that there is no more "beautiful" thing than finding out something
new about someone that you've known for a long time. Makes the
relationship mean that much more, that someone can still keep you on your
toes.
Secret Love
I hid my love when young 'til I
Coudn't bear the buzzing of a fly
I hid my love to my despite
Though I could not bear to look at light
I dare not gaze upon her face
but left her memory in each place
Where'er I saw a wild flower lie
I kissed and bade my love goodbye
I met her in the greenest dells
Where due drops pearl the wood blue bells
The lost breeze kissed her bright blue eye
The bee kissed and went singing by
A sunbeam found a passage there
A gold chain round her neck so fair
As secret as the wild bees song
She lay there all the summer long
I hid my love in field and town
'Til e'en the breeze would knock me down
The bees seemed singing ballads o'er
The fly's bass turned a lion's roar
And even silence found a tongue
To haunt me all the summer long
The riddle nature could not prove
Was nothing else but secret love
