|Spring, by Shalisa Photography|
A different kind of love poem, recycled from Ox Herding many months ago:
Love means to learn to look at yourself
The way one looks at distant things
For you are only one thing among many.
And whoever sees that way heals his heart,
Without knowing it, from various ills—
A bird and a tree say to him: Friend.
Then he wants to use himself and things
So that they stand in the glow of ripeness.
It doesn’t matter whether he knows what he serves:
Who serves best doesn’t always understand.
—Love, by Czeslaw Milosz, translated by Robert Hass
I hope your Valentine's Day is filled with much love.