Defining love, we fell into the journey. Freud was looking over our shoulders, chastising, with little understanding. Adam awoke and the Universe sang. They could not stop in the naming of things.
Around midnight, the few sparks gathered in an open meadow. These fierce pebbles debated the validity of fire. The water-carriers chirped in defense of the fields. Somebody, held them in check for a Season.
It was love, pure and simple, which brought these bodies together into some semblance of harmony. No Creator could hasten the pieces from falling into place.
The knowledge taken from a tree teaches limits; its rings chart destinies unseen.
If time itself were to collapse, forward motion would be irrelevant. Everything we hold as new would seem like dust particles; here today, gone tomorrow.
We pick things up, turning them in our hands, reaching towards light.
Only in sharing love, the give and take of Ages, do we find the relics to treasure.