Il Mio Amore

     Amore, a fascinating subject. Pondered by many, the subject of poems, songs, paintings, books, movies, you name it, I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my toes, love is all around me, come on and let it show.  We are imperfect people trying to perfect amore. Stumbling in the dark most of the time, there is no rhyme or reason in love. There is a saying, the heart wants what it wants. Who can understand the complexities of the heart.
     One thing is for certain and most especially true in romantic love, two hearts must connect. It is the connection that makes love what it is. It is said that love is work, but in my mind I think it should be without effort and anything that is done in love for another is motivated because of love, not because of implied threats from the one you love. A song has been stuck in my head, You Got Lucky by Tom Petty. You better watch what you say, you better watch what you do, good love is hard to find, you got lucky babe when I found you. Oh really, I think I would run from that relationship.
     It is the little things your loved one does that makes love grow, but it is so much more, it is knowing that person by heart. We share our hearts with each other in love and we hope with everything inside of us that the person we share our hearts with will not hurt us. Love is a huge risk, it takes a brave person to adventure out into it. We pledge to one another in marriage to stick with the other person through thick and thin, through the bad times and the good. It is not and should never be the outward circumstances that defeat love, but one should not do those things that will wound and hurt love because good love is hard to find and you might just be lucky enough to find it. If you do cultivate it and watch it grow. The song The Rose pretty much sums it up for me, so I will finish by posting the words to the song.
            
               The Rose"

Some say love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed.
Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love, it is a hunger,
An endless aching need.
I say love, it is a flower,
And you its only seed.

It's the heart afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance.
It's the dream afraid of waking
That never takes the chance.
It's the one who won't be taken,
Who cannot seem to give,
And the soul afraid of dyin'
That never learns to live.

When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long,
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong,
Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snows
Lies the seed that with the sun's love
In the spring becomes the rose.