Eros Triumphant

Soft as ballet. Rough like football.
Lethal. ... like poison.
Life-giving like a mother’s milk.
Such is the Game of Love.
It gives and takes away like a
Capricious god mocking the mortals.
But it transforms thru pain and heals with bliss.
It builds by deep affection.
Rearranges by destruction.
Don’t love if you expect only delight.
Don’t love if sorrow scares you.
But love if in spite of the perils
You feel the magic of its mystery,
The thrill of the pursuit,
The attraction of the unknown!
The lover is a warrior
Who turns defeat into a song,
A broken heart into a poem,
An unrequited love into
The awareness of an inner Self.
He plays the game with charm and grace.
Old age doesn’t deter him.
His motto is: If I survive
This war I shall fight the next one!
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