{"id":275,"date":"2010-08-04T02:26:10","date_gmt":"2010-08-04T07:26:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php"},"modified":"2014-03-24T01:14:22","modified_gmt":"2014-03-24T08:14:22","slug":"facing-love","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php\/writing\/writing-1992\/facing-love","title":{"rendered":"Facing Love"},"content":{"rendered":"<h5><em>By Martin Falatic<br \/>\nWritten 1992-02-27 05:00<br \/>\nRevised 1997-03-19<\/em><\/h5>\n<div>\n<hr \/>\n<\/div>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">I am stunned by what I&#8217;ve found<br \/>\nAn end! A beginning&#8230;<br \/>\nI&#8217;ve lived too much, they say,<br \/>\nSeen too many things drift sorrily away.<br \/>\nIn my heart reigns wretched turmoil,<br \/>\nthough my countenance reflects little.<br \/>\nThose who know me can see,<br \/>\nthose who love me can feel,<br \/>\nthat longing hidden deep.<br \/>\nMy love is like a seed,<br \/>\nit never dies,<br \/>\nIt simply hides in a shell,<br \/>\nBiding its time, waiting&#8230;<br \/>\nOne day there will come to my world<br \/>\ntrue love, on soft wings,<br \/>\nFloating on the warmth that is life itself.<br \/>\nAnd it will carry my soul, and strengthen me.<br \/>\nBut this day shall never come<br \/>\nunless these truths are embraced:<br \/>\nLove can not be bought or sold,<br \/>\nneither can it be taken: only given.<br \/>\nLove can not be held:<br \/>\nit must be free to move and grow.<br \/>\nLove is not beauty, but that which lets us appreciate it.<br \/>\nIt neither feeds nor gives food &#8212; that is from within.<br \/>\nFor love is not an object, but a communion,<br \/>\na melding of one&#8217;s soul with another&#8217;s.<br \/>\nYet despite these bounds of logic and faith,<br \/>\nlove is still infinite.<br \/>\nAs the colors of the rainbow,<br \/>\nit can never be divided.<br \/>\nIt is continuous, and in that way,<br \/>\nLove is eternal.<\/p>\n<div style=\"text-align: center;\">\n<hr \/>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>By Martin Falatic Written 1992-02-27 05:00 Revised 1997-03-19 I am stunned by what I&#8217;ve found An end! A beginning&#8230; I&#8217;ve lived too much, they say, Seen too many things drift sorrily away. In my heart reigns wretched turmoil, though my countenance reflects little. Those who know me can see, those who love me can feel, [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":278,"menu_order":1,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"class_list":["post-275","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/275","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=275"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/275\/revisions"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/278"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.martysparadox.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=275"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}