I become fully awake. After reminding myself. Daily. That
I’m in love. I wonder. If that’s the preoccupying force of life. My life. And
when did it happen? Was there a first
time? Or was I a natural born lover? Only
to grasp the concept later on. Maybe love has to be cultivated. A seed. That
sprouts. And blossoms. In the fertile soil of life. --Jim Broede
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