love beyond reason
Love Beyond Reason ©
By Michael Casey
There was an item on the news about Love, or rather MRI scans were being used to see what happens in the brain when we are in love. You get lots of different colours in the brain, meaning this and meaning that. But, we all know that Love is Beyond Reason, it is unfathomable, its Love after all. Poets have being trying to describe it for thousands of years, so a MRI scan does not have a chance, not unless MRI is the name of some rapping poet.
In Ireland it is called “the urge” this is when the desire to breed, to have a family comes upon you. In Star Trek Spock took control of the Enterprise as the urge or was it called farge overwhelmed him. I just tried to google farge and could not find it, so ask any Star Trek devotee to get the correct word. So Love or is it Lust overwhelms us, our hormones are everywhere. Anybody with teenagers in the house will know this well.
You get past the blast from your hormones at teenage then you get a job and work hard trying to climb the ladder in your job. You may do this for 5 or 10 or more years, love, sex and the urge have no place in your heart. You are a well-respected member of the team, of the crew, whether you work in McDonalds or are a cleaner, or work in the Path Lab or at a major laboratory. Your work is your life, you are saving up for your house, your car, your anything.
Then one day below the horizon she arrives, she’s junior to you, she may be senior to you, she may be your age, she may be ten or even fifteen years younger. But one thing is for certain, just one look melts the glacier that is in your heart. You may have had a broken heart, so you freeze dried those dangerous hurting emotions. Or you may have never had any emotions, it was just a door you never opened because you were too busy with your career.
Then she arrived, Doreen, the girl with the red crinkly hair and the Irish accent, or was it an Edinburgh accent, you were always useless with accents. Was she very pretty with the perfect figure and fish net tights, no, not even in your dreams. She was small and dumpy with her makeup badly done, but she had power over you. It was her twinkling eyes and the way she laughed, and the way she always held your gaze. You didn’t know it, she didn’t know it, but she was the one.
How did this happen? It was the urge, it was time, everything has its season, and the now was the season, for both of you. Your heart skipped a beat every time you saw her, or her Charlie perfume wafted towards you. You made a mental note to make sure you bought her some Ck, and make sure she got it at Secret Santa in a couple of weeks time. If she didn’t like it she would give it to you and you’d wear it yourself.
So looks became more looks, she touched your hand as she passed you a cup of coffee from the drinks machine, your heart had skipped a beat, skin on skin. You wanted to hold her in your arms and kiss her in the kitchen, so you just closed your eyes and bit your lip. You would have to wait till Christmas and the Mistletoe.
This is the power of the urge, you are all grown up but the hormones have started to surge. As for her, you were tall, fat yes, but tall too, she always liked tall men like Tom Selleck, perhaps you had a hairy chest too, that would make her scream with pleasure. The urge was upon her too. The next step would be buying new under-ware at Marks and Spencers.
So all this goes on, it’s all hormones, a clock ticking within us all, why is it so powerful, because it has to be. If we weren’t programed to love, to breed, to have sex, then we’d all disappear in one generation. Love is blind, love lifts us up, and all those phrases that were sung in Moulin Rouge when they were on that roof. It is true. What attracts X to Y and A to Z?
Everybody has to find a home, a fit, a place of rest, a place of safety, a place of fun, a place where a family can be made and grow up. There is no reason no rhythm to it, the Pied Piper plays the tune and our bodies follow it until we come home to each other, until our bodies fit, literally, and we are at peace.
I HAD WANTED TO POST SOMETHING ELSE BUT I STUMBLED OVER THE 5 YEAR OLD PIECE FROM MARCH 2015
Let There Be Light ©
By Michael Casey
Let my tears be my words
Let the candle light be my eyes
Let the flowers in bloom be my lips
Let their scent be my blood
Let the wind be my breath
Let clouds be my mood
Let children’s laughter be my hope
Let widows’ sighs be my conscience
Let a stranger’s prayers be my delight
Let the bees be my wisdom
Let the trees be my strength
Let my patience reach to the stars
Let me be always remembered in your prayers
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