Stools

Standing on concrete now whilst examining a photo of stools sitting on concrete then.

What of it?

What is implied in a single photo?

In a moment you barely remember, what of love you still believe is real but had little hope of growing in the future so you expressed it in other ways?

What is love but the preparation for and dedication to nurturing a relationship between two or more beings?

What separates love from a bobcat hunting a mouse?  Or is hunting a type of love in a more general/broader sense (love of self preservation)?

In the consistent, constantly existing below our level of awareness, sets of states of energy in motion, how does one describe love?

Is a tree’s ability to bend without breaking in a breeze an act of love for more than itself?

Have we exhausted our ideas of expanding Earth-based life onto other celestial spheres? When do we “plant” Earth-based extremophiles on the Moon, Mars and beyond, discovering how well they’ll survive ahead of us planting our feet there permanently?

Is that love?

It is certainly an expression of my love for you.

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