It is but a word...and yet it means more the all the books of the world. People live for it, some have died for it. Many dream of it and those lucky enough get to experience it. It's utterance can move the greatest of mountains, cross the vastest sea, make the weak strong, and the strong as though invincible.
It is but a word...but has the power of a screaming freight train. It can caress with the gentleness of a feather, or crush with the force of a sledge hammer. When spoken, it lights the room in shimmering hues, when thought of, it brings light to the heart.
Oh, how I hunger for the sustenance of it's feast, to drink deep the wine of it meaning and be intoxicated by the one from whom it flows. To bask in the sunshine of it's radiance, so warmed by it's truth that I'm at peace to my core.
But when it is gone, oh how sharp is that blade! Cutting and slicing with such unconcerned strokes. A hunger never satisfied, for once tasted all pale in compare, and thirst, like the dust of the desert, cakes the once thrumming heart.
Love...it is but a word...