What exactly is this thing called love? I say exactly, exactly! exactly! 'cause I've been bombarded with vague answers and fleeting feelings regarding its contents, its essence, its presence, or absence of. What is it in its entirety? To ask these questions is to imply the absence of the knowledge of love; but what then is the knowledge of love? If I have not and know not love then what is it that I have, and what is it that I know? For the sake of comparison my senses attest that the absence of light is darkness, That the opposite of up is down, and the opposite of in is out and so on and so forth. But I find to my chagrin that my senses lie! Tell me. If I stand upon the continent of the great down under; am I standing right side up, Or upside down? And which direction exactly is East and which beyond all doubt is West? Reason and its reason is put to the test and ignorance it seems does always get the best. Learned men once believed the earth to be flat but found that they were dead wrong at that. Yet it is through these same senses, or so it seems, that what has come to be called love is highly esteemed; Sung by the poets and bards for as far back as we can hope to go.. So I proposed the question to myself in an attempt to understand love, To corner it, To unravel it, To know how to get it, Where to get it, To have the choice of getting it Or leaving it, if you may; for the freedom to have or not to have a thing necessitates a knowledge of said thing. Is it attached to body parts? And if it is, then why does a baby as it grows older loose its affinity for its mother's breasts; And why does a husband lose his awe for his wife's physical charms, and vice versa.. The evidence to date suggests that it cannot be attached to body parts, nor can it be ascertained through the quibbles of the senses. Can it then be of a spiritual nature Whatever that is? No offense meant, but the spirit is as illusive an idea as any ever proffered. Is it a set of rules which can be known that if known will guarantee the state of love whatever that state is? Tell me, tell me, Tell me ye wise men, ye sages of all ages. Is it written down somewhere in sweet coherence upon the annals of time's pages.. Or is it hidden from the greedy eyes of man, or right before his eyes but he can't understand? Tell me if you know, but only tell me if for sure you know that when you do I too will know.