Love And Lust Love and lust are poles apart. Lust is chaos, love is art. Love infinite, lust is finite. Love is sustained, lust is short. Love is spiritual, lust is physical. Love is ideal, lust is sensual. Love is selfless, lust is selfish Love immortal, lust is mortal. Love is productive, lust is destructive….
Be thankful that you don”t already have everything you desire, if you did, what would be there be to look forward to?
The poet is fully contented, offers his entire possessions at the feet of God, in an act of final and total surrenders. As the stream flows into the sea, the poet’s songs will merge with the Eternal. Like cranes resting in their nests, he will rest in his eternal home.
Having had a mystic realisation of God, the poet has tried to depict God in his songs; but he has failed to explain to explain hes meaning. Divine presence is a mystic experience that comes through faith; wrds cannot communicate it. God loves the mystics and comes to them while the world scorns them.
Through his sonsgs, the poet has sought his Maker all his life. Through his songs he grew in wisdom and saw the depth of reality. Throug his songs he hopes to reach his final destination – God.
The ocean of this universe hides in its depths the perfect pearl – God. The poet has ever been searching for this Infinite. He no more enjoys being tossed about by the waves, but is eager to die and become with the eternal
The poet is eager to set out on the journey of death. He hopes to meet God, his Beloved, at the end of the journey. He will dress like a bridegroom and go without fearing difficulties and dangers, sure to be welcomed by God.
Death is calling, and the poet is about to begin his last journey. He thanks his fellw beings, his brothers, for their goodness to him, begs for their good wishes, and leaves to them whatever wealth he has.
The poet will die, but nature will go on. as usual, each passing hour will bring its pleasure or pain. As death is near, the poet is concerned with spiritual things and no more with material wealth. Nature makes no distinction between the rich and the poor.
Death is God’s messenger whom the poet will welcome heartily, offering him all his treasures. But he will reserve his soul, to offer it personally to his Maker.
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