what love looks like: a haiku (and a prose)

winter shore and dog

i cannot tell you

what my love for you seems like

what depth width height sight

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Only the heart knows the truth. No matter how much a man tries disguising it with an external measuring scale it can never be accurate. Especially when a man tries to define the size and shape of his love. He cannot stop his heart from the true beat that aligns with hers. Because the heart hears a different drum beat in love. Because the heart cannot be dictated upon by man’s rules. His heart is like a run away horse with seamless unseen wings, kicking and relentlessly soaring high into the vast beyond without a rein into the starless and windiest night sky. It is foolish to attempt to catch and put a strap on a writer’s heart. He pens his words with his heart. In love. In pain. In joy. In hope.

“Nature, the soul, love, and God, one recognizes through the heart, and not through the reason… Reason is a tool, a machine, which is driven by the spiritual fire.” (Dostoyevsky on the Heart vs. the Mind and How We Come to Know Truth)

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