What is this thing called love? What? Is this thing called love? What is this thing called? Love.

What is love? It is one of the most difficult questions for us, as a society. Centuries have passed by, relationships have bloomed and so has love. Poets and songwriters would be in a fine mess without it. Plus, it makes the world go round. But…no one can give the proper definition of love. No matter how you define it or feel it, love is the eternal truth in the history of mankind. Love is patient, love is kind. It has no envy, and it is never proud. Love protects, preserves, and hopes for the positive aspect of life. Always stand steadfast in love, not fall into it. It is like the dream coming true. Love can occur between two or more individuals. It bonds them and connects them in a unified link of trust, intimacy and interdependence. It enhances the relationship and comforts the soul. Love should be experienced and not just felt. The depth of love can not be measured. Look at the relationship between a mother and a child. The mother loves the child unconditionally, and it can not be measured at all. A different dimension can be attained between any relationship. Love can be created. You just need to focus on the goodness of the other person. If this can be done easily, then you can also love easily. And remember we all have some positive aspect in us, no matter how bad our deeds may be. Depending on context, love can be of different varieties. Romantic love is deep, intense and unending. The term Platonic and familial love are also matter of great affection. The meaning of love will change with each different relationship…But at times, the very existence of love is questioned. Some say it is false and meaningless. It says that it never exists because there have been many instances of hatred and brutality in relationships. The history of our world has witnessed many such events. There has been hatred between brothers, parents and children; sibling rivalry and spouses have failed each other. Friends have betrayed each other; the son has killed his parents for the throne, the count is endless. Even our modern generation is facing such dilemmas everyday. But “love” is not responsible for that. It is us, the people, who have forgotten the meaning of love and have undertaken such gruesome apathy. In the past, the study of philosophy and religion has speculated much on the phenomenon of love. But love has always ruled, in music, poetry, paintings, sculptor and literature. Psychology has also done lot of dissection to the essence of love, just like what biology, anthropology and neuroscience has also done to it. Psychology portrays love as a cognitive phenomenon with a social cause. It is said to have three components: Intimacy, Commitment, and Passion. Also, in an ancient proverb, love is defined as a high form of tolerance. And this view has been accepted and advocated by both philosophers and scholars. Love also includes compatibility. But it is more of journey to the unknown when the concept of compatibility comes into picture. Maybe the person whom we see in front of us, may be less compatible than the person who is miles away. We might talk to each other and portray that we love each other, but practically we do not end up into any relationship. Also in compatibility, the key is to think about the long term successful relationship, not a short journey. We need to understand each other and must always remember that no body is perfect. Be together, share your joy and sorrow, understand each other, provide space to each other, but always be there for each others need. And surely love will blossom to strengthen your relationship with your matter of affection. Look below at the several different poems. Which definition of “love” do you most agree with or relate to most? Which is your favorite? Leave me a comment with your opinion of these poems (and maybe love, in general) – they range from sappy to desperate to beautifully insightful.

Unlicensed Love

On a summer's day long, long ago I fell in love and I'll never know Just what it was that made me feel So drawn to her, what the appeal That set my pulses so to race When e'er I gazed upon that face Of one who was scarce but a child Yet even then could drive me wild I'll never know the how's and why's I lost my heart to Hazel Eyes But when I got that long sought kiss I knew I'd found my Perfect Miss My elfin girl from down the lane And I'll never let her go again For how could I describe our love? Romantic love, all hearts and flowers No way to count the days and hours Spent in self-indulgent wishes And thoughts of long awaited kisses Of sweet embraces, tender sighs And gazing into love filled eyes Oh yes, it is that kind of love Or, is it yet the love of passion The ecstasy that knows no ration That shuddering nerve-tingling feeling The climax with your senses reeling The wondrous joy when you discover That sweet surrender to your lover Oh yes, it's that kind of love too. Or even yet a love that grows One that cares and one that knows That sees beyond the outer skin Into the person deep within That loves the spirit and the soul The inner self that makes the whole Built on trust and empathy A love you know was meant to be The love we share is all these things A love that has no need of rings A love you never need to doubt A love I cannot live without A love to last us all our days A love I'll share with you always .

- Jim Sharman

Love Sonnet XVII

I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving

but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.
- Pablo Neruda

Love Sonnet XI

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

And I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
- Pablo Neruda

Love is not a Sound

Love is not a sound
often times spoken in haste
or promises you intend not to keep
or a walk down a one way street

Love is hope where hope was once severed
from your mind
Love is living each moment with the person
or love you find
Love is trust when trust repeatedly stole
from your life
Love is never giving up when you're
despondent
or in strife
Love is seeing all you can
in each and every man
'tis not a sound
that makes love profound
- Walter Rinder

Sonnet 43 When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,

For all the day they view things unrespected;

But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,

And darkly bright are bright in dark directed.

Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,

How would thy shadow's form form happy show

To the clear day with thy much clearer light,

When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so!

How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made

By looking on thee in the living day,

When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade

Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!

All days are nights to see till I see thee,

And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me. - William Shakespeare

The minute I heard my first love story,
I started looking for you, not knowing
how blind that was.

Lovers don't finally meet somewhere,
they're in each other all along.
- Pablo Neruda

Love

Are you fleeing from Love because of a single humiliation?
What do you know of Love except the name?
Love has a hundred forms of pride and disdain,
and is gained by a hundred means of persuasion.
Since Love is loyal, it purchases one who is loyal:
it has no interest in a disloyal companion.
The human being resembles a tree; its root is a covenant with God:
that root must be cherished with all one's might.
A weak covenant is a rotten root, without grace or fruit.
Though the boughs and leaves of the date palm are green,
greenness brings no benefit if the root is corrupt.
If a branch is without green leaves, yet has a good root,
a hundred leaves will put forth their hands in the end.
- Pablo Neruda

Love Sonnet XLV

Don't go far off, not even for a day, because--
because--I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?
- Pablo Neruda