One day as I was about to step on a dry leaf, I saw the leaf in the ultimate dimension. I saw that it was not really dead, but that it was merging with the moist soil in order to appear on the tree the following spring in another form. I smiled at the leaf and said, "You are pretending." Everything is pretending to be born and pretending to die, including that leaf. The Buddha said, "When conditions are sufficient, the body reveals itself, and we say the body exists. When conditions are not sufficient, the body cannot be perceived by us, and we say the body does not exist." The day of our "death" is a day of our continuation in many other forms.
Love is spirit incarnate: powerful, courageous, and splendid. It is light in dark times, a spring in dry times, a fire in cold times, and a gathering of allies in the fearful and questioning times. It is not ignorant of consequences or uncaring of effects. And, it is passionate and disciplined, wild and domesticated, a demanding task and a delightful play … a paradox, a presence with many faces.