One word, singular and bare, complete and roaming still, shadow cast deeply, widely into future sleeping. A word, one, that stands tall and soars at its mention and holds hope, fear and all forgetting. Cutting honest through cluttered thoughts and old vocabulary not aging well.
Manna …what is it?
If you had one word …only one, to speak defining love to her, to him, to them all over again, what would it be? No explanations, just one word to say it all. What is it? No ornate words fluffing flat folded hearts, but one cutting straight to her heart releasing love new, holding strongly and true.
Where is it?
Is it gone, lost in shuffle, let go of during the thinness of life together, bruised in traded blows? Or forgotten? Or mistaken for smiles only?
Love is work always of the most beautiful and worthwhile kind. Like a garden springing abundant, teeming life and fragrance captivating, love is made strong in the dirt where eyes can see no beauty. It never just happens. Love is made.
Be it a name or a place, a memory, quality or symbol catching, there is one word that finds them all. One word synonymous with love that is more precise, calls it common and undoes those four letters, l-o-v-e, as generic, misstated and overused.
Find that word. Work for its discovery, not for a day or a moment manufactured romantically, but a connection far deeper than the life we see and know.
One word precise and exact for love.
What is it?
Your word. One.
What. is. it?