Love and Life
The fiery passion of romantic love,
allowed by providence from above,
burns mightily in the heart of man.
But only a melding of souls sustains,
as the fire in the heart waxes and wanes.
I begin this musing with a short poem daring to explain the mystery and power of love—a feeble effort on my part to lay bare my heart as I now approach the sunset of life on this mortal coil. Now that my 8th decade of life is approaching with ever increasing acceleration, I feel that if I wake up tomorrow to another sunrise and watch the arch of its path to sunset, it will seem no longer than a whole lifetime of sunrises and sunsets. Yes, indeed, life is short, and life is tuff—but it is a lot tougher when you are alone. I suppose the last lines of the poem should read like this: Love lost, and love found, makes the world go round.
As I step back and look at my friends and family (uh oh, here I go again), I am tempted to give them advice about love and life. I often advise young men to find a wife who thinks of them as their hero and then to spend the rest of their lives trying to be their hero. Of course, we can't be the hero all the time, but it's the trying part that counts. My advice to young ladies is reciprocal, as you must strive to deserve such heroic treatment. As an afterthought, I might add that we are never too old to be heroes and heroines.
