Gibran

When love calls you, follow it,
even though its paths are hard and steep.

And when its wings enfold you,
yield yourself to it,
even though the sword hidden among its feathers
may wound you.

And when it speaks to you, trust it,
even though its voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste to a garden.

For even as it crowns you,
love will also crucify you.

Even as it leads you to grow,
so it will also prune you.

Even as it rises to your highest branches
and caresses your tenderest shoots
that tremble in the sun,
so shall it descend to your roots
and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of wheat,
it gathers you into itself.

It threshes you to make you bare.
It sifts you to free you from your chaff.
It grinds you until you are white.
It kneads you until you are pliant.

And then it assigns you to its sacred fire,
so that you may become holy bread
for God’s sacred feast.

All this shall love do to you
so that you may know the secrets of your heart,
and in that knowledge become a fragment of the heart of life.

But if, in your fear,
you seek only love’s peace and pleasure,
then it is better for you to cover your nakedness
and leave the threshing floor of love,
to enter a world that knows not the seasons,

where you will laugh,
but not with the fullness of laughter,
and weep,
but not all your tears.

Love gives nothing but itself
and takes nothing but from itself.

Love possesses not, nor would it be possessed;
for love is sufficient unto love.

When you love, you should not say, “God is in my heart,”
but rather, “I am in the heart of God.”

And do not think
that you can direct the course of love,
for love, if it finds you worthy,
shall direct your course.

Love has no desire but to fulfill itself.

But if you love and must have desires,
let these be your desires:

To melt and be like a running brook
that sings its melody to the night.

To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
and to bleed willingly and joyfully.

To wake at dawn with a winged heart
and give thanks for another day of love;

To rest at noon and meditate upon love’s ecstasy;

To return home at evening with gratitude,
and then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart
and a song of praise upon your lips.

— Khalil Gibran