In love as love through love

How many see the self as the enemy? They feel that something is wrong and hear that there are some who live in apparent bliss, without attachment, and they long to get rid of that as well! They love so many things with an ache that they feel is wrong somehow.
They desire love and feel they cannot find it... yet they are looking at it always.... it is just the idea of love that seems to block this obvious recognition

I see you and I know you are love...
You are the jewel of the universe... through your eyes, love catches a glimpse of its own reflection...
and I weep and I weep and I weep...

in love as love through love
love in love with itself...
through your beautiful beautiful eyes

I wandered to the edge of all and everything...
The known world exploded and every shard pierced my heart and eviscerated me, love burned every secret place I thought I could hide in... found the deepest darkest places I never knew existed... acres of blood soaked meadows and ashes of bones blowing away...
....until there was not even nothing...
But no one fell off that cliff, as there is no where to fall and no one who could...
This unutterable vacancy swept through my brain like a great wind, blowing away all that I thought I knew... all ideas were seen to be false... including all ideas of truth...
and love...

I returned to the known world, knowing I was a flowing thought dream... that all things were mental fabrications...
Yet the infinite beauty of thingness, wondrous beyond compare...
The amazing beauty of all the stories ever written, the heartbeat of humanity... love and love lost, and longing for love... and the pain we get to feel so deeply... all of it feels like love...
the exquisite story of love sings me... sings these words these lines
...these tears

and every thought is love and love is a thought...
I simply can find no other word to sing of this seamless beauty...
it is belief in thought by the brain that emits thought that creates the dissonance, the feeling that something is horribly wrong...
as there is a deep intuited knowing feeling of slipperiness, of seamlessness...
that perhaps life is truly doing itself... and a fear of that...
for if there is no one or thing doing life... not even god....
then where does that leave me?

the soft breath of a gentle ok-ness sings...
I am this beautiful longing...
this love of loving...
this primal ache of our aliveness sings these lines,
these imaginary lines that define me

there are no boundaries in love
love is knowing there is no separation
yet without the illusion of separateness
there is no love
a river needs its banks to flow
the moon needs the river
to see its own light
to kiss its own reflection
and drown in its own beauty