The Fruit Of Our Own Seed

So though the eyes love attains the heart:
For the eyes are the scouts of the heart,
And the eyes go reconnoitering
For what it would please the heart to possess.
And when they are in full accord
And firm, all three, in the one resolve,
At that time, perfect love is born
From what the eyes have made welcome to the heart.
Not otherwise can love either be born or have commencement
Then by this birth and commencement moved by inclination.

By the grace and by command
Of these three, and from their pleasure,
Love is born, who with fair hope
Goes comforting her friends
For as all true lovers
Know, love is perfect kindness,
Which is born, there is no doubt, from the heart and eyes.
The eyes make it blossom; the heart matures it:
Love, which is the fruit of their very seed.

Giraut de Bornelh was born in 1138 in Limousin which is in central France around the area known as Limoges. He was connected with the castle of Viscount of Limoges, and his skill as a Troubadour earned him the title, “Master of the Troubadours.” About ninety of his poems, and four of his melodies have survived through the years. Love, as Giraut mentions, is the fruit of our own seed, and it is constantly flowering into magnificent arrangements. The eyes and the heart are always searching for what we already possess.

Our body consciousness wants to sense what our essence expresses unendingly. Expressions of love are fueled by mental enzymes. These enzymes act as a catalyst so we can innately feel other aspects of the self. We create a physical life in order to experience our individual consciousness.

James Joyce, the 19th century Irish writer, novelist, and poet had this to say about love:

At the moment of the wakening to love, an object, apparently without, passes into the soul forever. . . And the soul leaps at the call. To live, to err, to fall, to triumph, to recreate life out of life.

When love is manifested physically it blooms and expands in its own action. As Joyce mentions, it takes on the form of life.

Joseph Campbell the 20th century American Mythologist simply says:

The distance of your love is the distance of your life. Love is exactly as strong as life.