Rise In Love
Pop art @80svintagecomic
We don't fall in love. Not ever at first, we rise in it. Our hearts bloom and our blood rushes. Blessed as love even briefly takes its shoes off at our front door, enters without knocking and makes a hell of a smiling mess in our kitchen. We rest snug and delighted in the first flush. Love blossoms simpatico. The strings in our chest gently plucked by another who may have walked on by a hundred other days. That magic one, fated and fabled, that turns their lovely head and sees.
The mooning passes and the easy masks come off and love stays on, sending roots into the soil and wishing on the stars above. We make promises and whisper vows into each others skin. I becomes conjoined. We plant tiny seeds in our lovers and pray for their blooming.
Love remains a cunning house guest, unpredictable in its favours and fluid rules. It cannot be dressed down or bartered for another elixir, one easier to swallow that doesn't stick in your throat. Love withers when ignored or expected to do the work all by itself unsupported. Love will not chase you when you run away from it. Love will not jump crying in front of you if you trade its favours for the lesser gods that rule our harried world. Love does not call itself by any other name and will not answer when you do.
Love can make terrifying seraphs and beautiful monsters of us all. Love marches you unwilling to the face of the fire and demands you walk through it. The flames singe your watering eyes and pluck at your locked chambers. The beautiful terror of transformation is ever present, beckoning to your thudding heart. Love never ever leaves you unmarked. Love's tenderness is the reward for the great courage it takes to befriend your demons, so they might play nicely with others.
Find Love tucked away in you, this day and all others, waiting to be given away. Let it save the world now. And when Love is offered to you on shaking hands, be brave and tender enough to rise towards what it will require of you. Our greatest adventures are weaved by Love's eternal longing for itself.
•
But dear,
don't be
afraid of
love, it's
only magic
~ r.m.drake
Scribed under Venusian beams, still rippling across the universe.
Love witching a specialty, with consent but never to influence the free will of any other. Choose from readings for singles or couples, cardiac witchery and potent love potions. DM if you're curious, darklings.
Words c. Kerrie Basha 2024