Love

Children are born as a whole. They broke off from Heaven and fell to Earth.
They smell like mischief. Like the gardens of Eden.

They are our children. Our favorites, the ones we care about most.
It is our hopes, our values.

We rejoice and grieve with them. They make family lovers. They turn it into a torrent of love.

We have judgments, we raise them according to them.

Don’t do that, don’t do that, do this, do that.

They are a whole apple. They haven’t been fired from heaven yet.

First bite comes from the family. Then the bites continue from the environment.

We are now half an apple. We must take heart.

We’re half an apple now, and we’re looking for the other piece to complete ourselves.

When we find our other piece, we hug it tightly.

It is our first BFF (Best Friend Forever). We always think it will go like this. However, we forget about them when the time passes.

Of course the first love begins. Our hands do not hold our feet. No sleep goes into the nights. We always think about it. It is the second half of the apple. Complementing you.

We think it’s done, but we realize that two different Worlds are there. He was bitten in different parts.

We show our bites. It shows their anger as to how better I have been bitten.
The iteration begins and finally we have found our prince on the white horse or the sultan of our hearts.

We get married as half apples. But your family did not bite their new children. In a few bites they want to get it. Isn’t that why your mother-in-law, your father-in-law?

And time comes when you are happiest on Earth. You have taken your first child in your arms. Your indescribable happiness. The fruit of love has come.
Your responsibilities have increased and you are now a father and mother. A new curtain has opened in your struggle for life.

Now you have forgotten yourself and you are working for them. By working long hours, you have forgotten them, that you worked for them.

The years have passed for them, without them.

One day, they fly out of the nest, and you realize that nothing is yours, only your trustee, only your witness of time.

What you try to have has become yours.

Bitten apples are roasted with love, united to find love. Without realizing that they are going through life.

They do not know that what they want to reach is themselves, their divine love within themselves.

It’s just their ignition, it’s their passion, it’s the life that motivates them. It is their quest in the journey of divine love.

And finally comes the relative end. The funeral prayer is made and the teacher asks. How do you know?

They say we knew well. The people whose lives you touch.

How many people would you like to have at your funeral? How many people to cry.

I wonder how well those who know well know you.

They say they make you feel. They wouldn’t know you. One of the two halves of the apple is gone.

His heart is burned in the other half.

It is burned for love. He’s burned in his life journey.

Not knowing that he was looking for it.

As the master said. “It is not found by searching, but those who find are always those who seek.”