A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness - Robert Frost
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Nonexistent Borders and Lines
There are no limits to love, No box to secure it in
There are not lines, no outstanding boarders
No ends of the earth
Love has no limits, it walks a million miles every day
Only because it's love
It soars past galaxies, as far as existence can reach
Then it goes a little further
Love has no clock, It's a vertigo of time
Forever paused, forever in motion, forever recollecting
A limit to love defines it pretend.
Give it a wall, and you do not truly know it.
The love of loves has no limits.
It lives and dies for another's sake
It endures a million rejections, it lasts a million heartbreaks
Yet it is still love.
It carries the weak, it weeps for another's pain,
because it is love.
Because it has no limits.
The love of loves, The love of my Father and King in Heaven.
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