A Quart of Tree

Love is such an unimaginable word. There is nothing like it in all the world, nothing so volatile, or wondrous, or undefinable. I cannot tell you what it looks like, or even come up with accurate similes. There is a light to love so bright that even the sun cannot compare, but there is a also a darkness that belongs just as truly to this same word.

Growing older, I seem to be better able to find the strength of love without eating the poisonous seeds scattered around its core. I know these seeds come from misunderstandings, from trying to understand love by looking at the rest of this world, trying to categorize something with weights and measures that are not meant for such a thing, a process much more difficult than finding a quart of tree, or pound of clouds.