When love beckons to you, follow it, Thought its ways are hard and steep. And when its wings enfold you, yield to it, Though the sword hidden among its pinions may wound you. And when it speaks to you believe in it, Though its voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. For even as love crowns you, so shall it crucify you. Even as it is for your growth so it is for your pruning. Even as It ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, So shall It descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth. Like sheaves of corn it gathers you unto itself. It threshes you to make you naked. It sifts you to free you from your husks. It grinds you to whiteness. It kneads you until you are pliant; And then It assigns you to its sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast. All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart. But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure, Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears. Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself. Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
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