[Click the picture above to hear music composed by the author]

The essence of love is beyond definition. No word, no phrase, no concept, low or lofty, can contain it. Why is this? Because before every existence, when there were no words, and none to speak them, yet there was love.

So, what does it matter if one looks deeply, with great detachment, like the Buddha? What does it matter if one embraces the world passionately, like an artist? What does it matter when two lovers kiss ardently?

All are the same, the profound and forbidding depth, and the fleeting joys of every day. They are the same. They are all love.

We are each lovers, regardless of our paths. If only we knew this. And, once knowing, if only we might never forget.

We learn to delight in words, separating the high and the low. Greatness, anonymity: love names them both. Love creates them both.

Finally, the seeker reaches the door to the Great Mystery, or so she believes. And yet the door opens to reveal another door.

"Go deeper still. There must be an answer!" she cries. Yet, another door, and no end of wonders!

There is no end, no cessation of loving. No one has ever reached such an end. Love affairs end. Art is forgotten. Yet love itself never ends. Love itself is never forgotten.