We sometimes forget how ordinary love is. Love is the source of being. Nothing is cut off. No one survives alone. Webs and systems gather things together. Individuals form from the union of others. Life emerges from crisscrossing and decay. Old bones nurture the soil; the ancient universe lives on in traces of elements underfoot. Species and offspring, predator and prey are bound together. A child reaches out.
All kinds of care connect us. The rattle and shake of being born evokes our first breath. We belong to this surprising world. Many hands lift me up: those who grow my food, sew my shirt, discover new drugs, read to me. Things always matter. I could not become indifferent even if I spent years pursuing that crooked goal. The wonder of words alone draws me out of the caverns of doubt. What is held firmly as mine folds into happiness when it is given away.
Ordinary love carries us daily. From this current we call out. There is so much we seek. You kindle our desires and send us roaming. On this journey of mishap and grace we learn how to love. Our smallness is the gift. Yes, You hear us.
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