10 Lessons I’ve learned about Love
- The first bird, baited and hooked by a crooked conman, understands her cage, but cannot hear how freedom rings with freedom wings. The second bird, spurred by a relentless wave of succor and salve, understands her freedom but refuses to take flight. Both birds will stay, but only the latter one will sing.
- Have you ever begged an ass to budge, and on the third try he finally listens? Yeah, neither have I.
- The musicmen bank billions off of our heartache. Not every love song makes a killing off a birdsong that was willing. Listen to what he does not say.
- Even the best salesmen dance around the byproduct of the lie he just sold you. Listen to what he does not say.
- A skilled thief takes his time with it; studies his Pearl incessantly before pick-pocketing a woman he can not afford to buy. Pretty girl, watch who’s watching you.
- But once you have been bought, pay all that love back. Shake, ratttle and pour his hands clean with all that loveback.
- I mean, stack his rooftops high and overflowing from all that golden backtrack.
- I imagine love a thunderous boomclap— terrifyingly able to move mountains.
- Or humble those mountains into molehills, because forgiveness be an action word, a moving verb, our singing bird.
- Yes, the battle has been won. But baby, this is my warcry: whatever has drifted let it stray, whatever God has anchored, let him stay.
