Shakespearean Queries

Sometimes all it takes is a simple gesture, whether a smile, a wink, or a fingertip glanced across the back of your neck, and you're done. You feel the sensation wash over you and course through your veins. You look into those eyes and you're lost, hoping never to find yourself again.  That's how it starts. How it ends you'll never know until fate decides the hour. So, dear destiny, how does it end? In Shakespearean triumph or tragedy? Are your lovers star crossed, or simply sorrowed?  Do they end madly in love, or mad as Ophelia's love would make her?

Love is a fickle creature, spurred by desire and spurned by conspiring forces. How does it survive and flourish when faced with turmoil and turbulence? What is it that steers the ship clear of tempest and doldrums alike? Is it a steady wind or swirling breezes? What needs love, to persevere? A soft hand or heavy heart? Clearness of mind or energy of emotion? Perhaps a combination of all, or nothing.

It is a strange thing, this love, which drives one to mirth or misery. Why then is it a thing so desired, yet often so despised? What force determines its survival? So many questions, love leaves unanswered. Or are the answers evident before one's eyes, shrouded in irreverence?

I think perhaps none shall ever know what path love shall take, for the path is never ending. Follow, or do not. The choice is yours. Perhaps the journey is the destination. One must answer that query for one's self – no other may lead you, though, if one is lucky, one will join you.

So, pray tell, dear fate, how does it end?

© J.J. Goodman 2014. All rights reserved.