Why does the mystery of love have to be such a mystery?
Love and its delights come in many sized* tetra-paks,
Look at any new father with tears running down his cheeks,
As he gazes with love at his baby in a ward full of soft toys and roses.
So why is the mystery of love such a riddle?
First love a poet once declared is last love,
But that to me is rather idealistic and rather repulsive,
For should not love when once tasted soar on the wings of a dove?
And does not love when richly sampled become a puzzle?
Which for any poet or lyricist has to mean double trouble!
Love is a problem either way or so the song cynically states,
That somehow never quite solves that dilemma or dampen men’s dominant desires.
But listen have you experienced that sharp painful ache,
When your heart is violently pierced for His sake?
When from the innocent lips of one who truly loves Him,
A dashing denial is forced to totally deny Him?
This is the pain,
That offers no eternal gain.
This is the rusting stain,
That stifles all shocking sin!
“We love Him because He first loved us” (1 John 4:19)
* Tetra pack: plastic wax containers used for milk and juices in supermarkets,
usually with a spout.
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