Love is not condescension, never that, nor books, nor any marking on paper,
nor what people say of each other.
Love is a tree with branches reaching into eternity and roots set deep in eternity,
and no trunk!
Have you seen it? The mind cannot. Your desiring cannot. The longing you feel
for this loves comes from inside you.
When you become each other, your longing will be as the man in the ocean
who holds to a piece of wood.
Eventually, wood, man, and oceans become one swaying being.
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