On Love by Kahlil Gibran

When love beckons to you, follow him.
When his wings enfold you yield to him,
When he speaks to you believe in him,
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He sifts you, to free you from your husks.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs 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 wake at dawn with a winged heart,
and give thanks for another day of loving,
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy,
To return home at eventide with gratitude,
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.