Let us commit to the field of love, not the form.
Let us acknowledge that form changes, ebbs and flows, as it must.
We are lovers, we are friends.
We are wedded, we are divorced.
We are together, we are not. We are together again.
We are partners, we are ex-partners. We live together, we do not.
We are attracted to each other, the attraction wanes then surges unexpectedly.
We are bright and active, rosy faced and full of hope.
We are bed-bound, we soil our underwear at night, and we need help to eat, yet we are full of hope.
We take unexpected paths, change in unexpected ways, dance our unique dances in the field.
We never stay still. We are alive.
Is there a love that survives all these changes, even celebrates them? A love that embraces, yet does not cling?
Is there a great field in which we can meet every day, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer?
Can we commit to the field itself, and not get attached to a specific form?
Can we shed all ideas of permanence, and meet in the here and now, speaking from the heart today, listening from presence today, telling our truth today, no matter where it takes us tomorrow?
Can we risk the loss of form in honour of the the field, till death do us part?
Is there a love so huge, so timeless, so present, so free from worldly conditions?
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