Love has many guises. Just as the wolf can appear in one moment a savage beast and a cuddly bundle of fur in the next, so can love, quickly and unexpectedly, change its face.
We liken love to a rose. And in hopes that mix with vanity or even arrogance, we clip off the thorns. It seems we wish to live blind, in some ways, for to clip off the thorns is to bury an important truth.
Love can cut, and no one wants to bleed. Thus, trying to remain free from pain is understandable. Yet, as we journey through life, we see another side - another face - of the truth: When love cuts and the heart bleeds, the soul listens. And learns.
When one comes upon the crossroads between love and wisdom, which path is best chosen? Perhaps the situation and its unique circumstances dictate. And perhaps deception guides the choice, as when one believes love is the right path when it is really wisdom they should seek.
Maybe the answer lies in the thorns. It often seems, as I look back on the paths I've walked, that truth is found in the place one wishes not to touch.
Thus, I welcome the thorns; I respect their power, their deceptive strength. The truth of past generations lies within the blood. Thus I let myself bleed, thus I let myself learn.
I liked it, it express the truth.