Gustav Moreau - The Mystic Flower (1890)
Love is not relationship, or karma, or choice.
She is not an emotion or a desire. She is not a boon or a curse.
Although her weave threads through all phenomena, her nature is of another order entirely: beyond description, beyond comprehension, immutable and indivisible.
Her presence itself establishes the universal laws.
Gravity is her footprint. The speed of light is her laughter.
Although space and time search for her ceaselessly, they cannot find her.
All the pairs of opposite dance within her shadow, but vanish into nothingness whenever they attempt to step outside it.
Ever present, with arms outstretched, she is waiting only for you to fall backwards into her embrace. Can you allow yourself to be absorbed and imbued at once? Can you stand alone, yet cease to exist?
Love. Is All. This. And more.
-- Richard Power