The Prophet - Kahlil Gibran, notes in retrograde.

I've read Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet at a few junctures in life. And... I'll be honest here, I first read it because of The Boondocks animated series. Not the most illustrious of beginnings? Or maybe it is. Maybe, if I watch or read those again... I'll see them in a new light. Today's topic, On Love. Every time I read his essay On Love I'm rocked to my core. Shook, is the word of the day. I am admonished of how I've treated Love. I am ashamed with what I have done with it and who I've been to it. Over the years, I've allowed love to not be sufficient unto love. I've allowed myself to slip into that season less world of empty laughter and tears. So then must I be destroyed. "Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden." He speaks of the destructive tumult that is Love. Regardless of where you stand on any theistic points, we hold that to be true. Love destroys you. But not so in the pessimistic leave the remnants to the dust image. In the image of the harvest. In the image of the making. In the image of the feast. For what does love break that we desire to hold on to? What do cling with tender hands out of fear, not love? What am I afraid that love will rip from me? What do I hold onto out of fear? Then, as a fog lifting from the valley the answer is clear. "Know the pain of too much tenderness." "Wounded by your own understanding of love." "Bleed willingly and joyfully." These things I no longer do. These things to me now have a price. One I am not willing to pay every passing day. But I must, for in my heart I wish "to return home at eventide with gratitude" once more. I need the "song of praise upon your lips." So we return to the costs of love, willingly. Hopefully before the Prophet leaves we heed his words.

I'll update this post as I read the chapters and reflect. Next, is On Marriage. Hopefully I'll have enough words to make posts for each chapter when it's all over.