Love is indefinable. Love is wise. Love is immeasurable. Love is boundless.
Ever-changing, love is like the clouds. The clouds will roll above you and morph in every minute. That’s like love; it’s indefinable. Like a cloud, love shifts its size and shape.
A cloud can change, from thin air, into a cluster of shadows, capable of swallowing up the sun. Your love, too, can grow and lessen, and it comes in many different forms, much like a shapeless group of clouds.
The love of money, supporting your sports team, or being infatuated with a favorite food ... is not the same as loving thy neighbor, your feelings for your spouse, or the unconditional love of your family.
One moment your love is a feather-like wisp in the wind, carrying only the aroma of rain. Then — in an instant — that sky-wide cloud is harboring veins of hot lightning, and a thunder that can shake the earth.
Love is also wise, almost all-seeing. Love is like your life’s auditor.
All-knowing, love accounts for tenderness, sentimentality and generosity. Looking, too, at your heartache, flaws and insecurities, love then writes its romantic report.
Love has deduced your desires and it knows who has taxed your heart. Diligent in the details, love sums up the needful numbers, tallies any forlorn figures, and calculates just how well you will be rewarded. Your life’s auditor, only love can award you with Cupid’s capital.
Love is immeasurable; it cannot be measured.
No scale, nor rule, nor gauge can measure love. It has no volume, no weight, no depth, nor mass. There is not, and will never be, a unit of measurement for love.
Love can be tiny while also grand, towering, at the same time small. It comes in a pinch, and too by the ton. It can fill you up or it can leave you empty. Love’s been known to make one weightless, but it, too, can hang heavily on one’s heart. And, while love at first sight may not be as deep as a love everlasting ... everlasting may not be so meaningful, for a love that is only occasionally on time.
Boundless, too, love knows no limitation. Love is the hunter of hearts.
Your heart will try to hide, deep down, in the dark, encased in muscle, within its cage. Throughout its days, your heart will never rest, and in each night of life, your heart lies awake, and alert. As the hunter, love will seek out your heart, and your heart cannot help but reveal itself. Spastic, erratic and loud, its beatings unhide the heart, presenting you, as an easy mark, for Cupid’s amorous arrow.
Many people will ask themselves, this Valentine’s Day ... “What is love?”
In my humbly-honest opinion, love is boundless and immeasurable, it is wise and indefinable. And, if I may boldly suggest, to those who are seeking to capture, quantify, comprehend or label the legend of love –– ask instead of yourself, this holiday, “What does love mean, to me?”
Shaun Savarese is a former reporter with The Daily Record.