LUCE DI MILLE SOLI
di Romano Maria Luisa
OF LOVE
Do not speak of love if its mystery has never touched your heart, explored your heart, mastered your heart.
Don't speak of love if your heart is still begging for love.
Do not talk about love if you haven't yet recognized in it's waves the come and go of all your lives,
rich waves, fruitful, full of treasures,
lapping the dunes of your being.
Don't speak of love if you haven't recognized it
and yourself yet,
and you're not ready to recognize the fluids of the Earth in everything that you are.
Do not talk about love if the wonder of being Love has not yet touched your heart,
if you're not ready to make this immense ocean dig,
shape, chisel your stone.
You gaze lost along the vastness of the horizon's
universal lidos,
but it's love you hear, love you think, love you see,
love you feel.
Don't talk about love just because you're looking at its depths
and its depths are too dark for you.
Don't talk of it if you're not ready to see your heart abandoned without knowing if and when you'll find it
but for love, still,
you'll be ready to lose it again.
Don't talk about love just because its light shines on you
and you feel its warmth.
Love will embrace your soul,
and wrapping you in its arms
will flood you with hot magma,
leaving you naked, vulnerable, fragile, moved, ecstatic.
Only with the essential part you.
Love heals your wounds,
soothes your pain.
Everything it empties, filling you.
Satisfies your every appetite.
Quenches your thirst.
Love offers all.
Love offers itself.
A drop, an ocean,
in its ocean, infinity.
ROMANO MARIA LUISA