What do you love? Do you hear it’s name called out on gathering winds?
What do you love? Do you feel it stirring beneath the cells at the edges of your skin?
What do you love? Do your feet run from this thing, or toward it’s arms?
What do you love? Will you speak it now, out loud? Will you dance with it in the streets? Will you stand up for it to those who may not understand? Will you teach it to us, so we all may better learn?
What we love has many faces, many guises. It burrows under trees or settles deep into the ocean. It flies high sometimes, and moves quickly. Sometimes love burns.
Love doesn’t make us comfortable, though it can comfort us. Sometimes that which we love can make us squirm, goading us to take the risk and commit our very lives: to be fully ourselves.
Dive deep, run fast, burn bright, or even fly.