Love is like a sleeping bag

 

Maybe,

Love is like

a sleeping bag.

 

On one of those dark nights,

when life was battering you,

you found her;

climbed into her:

you rested in her gentle holding.

 

And then the morning came,

and you thought about how you could keep Love with you.

It was easy at first:

Folding the end of her and rolling her up.

But the bag in which you would carry her,

soon seemed full.

Some of you will be experts at this,

but when Love is your sleeping bag

don’t expect to stuff the last bit of her in.

 

If you could, what good would she be to you?

That sleeping bag stuffed into its own bag?

I guess you could lay down and rest your head on her.

She may soothe your thoughts;

Smooth out your anxieties.

But how would she touch your heart?

How would she cradle your soul?

 

I guess you could sit on her

She may enable you to take the weight off your feet,

whilst you wait.

For something; for someone.

Or maybe you could use her as a meditation cushion.

As you sit on love would she seep into you

And still you?

 

But I am not sure

that she will ever let you squeeze her into that bag.

I feel that as you begin to enclose her,

She will expand;

She will open out.

And when you go to pull the chord and hem her in,

You will look up and see that she has spilled out,

and stretches beyond your grasp.

 

She gave you rest.

She held you in the darkness.

Is it impossible to carry her with you?

So that she is there when you need her again?

Is there something that you can carry that will contain her?

 

Yes!

You can carry her inside yourself.

In that space of your soul

which longs for her presence,

and echoes the universe in its capacity to expand.

When you carry Love inside you,

your soul will grow.

Love will gently push the edges outwards,

Sometimes slipping through its porous perimeter

And touching the world around you.

 

And if your soul should ever

become full of Love,

She will pour out of you

Like a blanket

Settling gently on the world.