It can only be love

 
When you find out about death…

And when you yet feel your own aliveness coursing through your body, heart pumping, breath breathing without your having to do anything, thoughts thinking themselves into existence…

When you see and feel how much is alive around you, in you, with you…

When you look into the eyes of another…

What else can it be, all this life, but a boundless expression of love of which you are, indivisibly, a part?

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