A revelation is not as sudden as it seems. The essential truth is revealed in the little sparks between two hearts, a spiritual embrace, so gently felt like two strangers sitting close enough their hands brush each other so lightly that both question if the other noticed but neither say a thing, as if the world was paused but the moment plays out, and the only thing that can be heard now are their own heartbeats (how sweet such a harmony is formed), and overtime these traces of something other become more and more, a feeling, a sensation, that grows and matures into something that wasn't so clearly grand, wasn't so clearly magnificent in its consequence.
The magnitude rises until at last it cannot be denied because how could you not but be totally shaken by it? You wonder if she feels the same and the tremors cause you to shudder. The intensity of it surges with each heartbeat until even that can no longer be heard, as it is just that deafening, that love one feels for someone, who appears so extraordinary even the bleakest room comes alight with her presence, a star so spectacular she inspires words you've never conceived of, but even more stunning is how this paralyzes you; you struggle to speak of her because you fear of doing her an injustice.
My thoughts are all poetry but my voice is no longer mine, you've taken it from me, and so I've been reduced to silence, so please, take my thoughts too, so you can understand just how deeply I've fallen for you.
And that is the revelation, which was just a budding truth in its conception, but her tender heart nurtured it well and now it has blossomed, and how dazzling it has become; but of course, that is just to be expected, when her own image inspired it to take root.
Only a love as pure as this could sprout for her. I'd give her every flower in the world so she could see just how her beauty takes form.
In simple terms, what is this revelation?
I love her.
Of course I do.
She is everything that blooms.
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