Late Night Thots

I do not love you as if you were a salt rose, or topaz
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
So I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I do not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

~Pablo Neruda, Sonnet XVII

i dunno why, but this poem came to mind recently. i haven't read it since college; i always found it so beautiful, but never understood it. it used to call to mind st. john of the cross, and his work "the dark night of the soul." today, i think i understand it, because i think i've come to a place with Christ where i'm beginning to learn what love is. and that final stanza sticks out to me, because that is essentially my prayer as an actor.

[this was hard for me to post.]