“All things and all people … call on us with small or loud voices. They want us to listen. They want us to understand their intrinsic claims, their justice of being. We can give it to them only through the love that listens.” Paul Tillich
What if each of us were able to listen to another without interruption?
What if each of us were able to understand each another without letting our innate biases color our understanding?
What if each of us felt accepted unconditionally as we are at the present moment?
I speak for myself. I’d like that kind of world. How about you?
When silence flees before the voice of Love,
Of what expression does that god approve?
Is dulcet song or flowing verse his choice,
Or stately prose, made regal by his voice?
Speaks Love in couplets, or in epics grand?
And is Love humble, or does he command?
There is no language that Love does not speak:
To-day commanding and to-morrow meek,
One hour laconic and the next verbose,
With hope triumphant and with doubt morose,
His varying moods all forms of speech employ.
To give expression to his painful joy.
To voice the phases of his joyful pain,
He rings the changes on the poet’s strain.
Yet not in epic, epigram or verse
Can Love the passion of his heart rehearse.
All speech, all language, is inadequate,
There are no words with Love commensurate.
Extraordinary people survive under the most terrible circumstances and they become more extraordinary because of it.