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When
your
heart
aches,
whatever
the
perceived
cause,
your
heart
is
aching
for
Me.
When
you
feel
that
something
is
missing
in
your
life,
no
matter
how
clear
or
how
vague
your
feeling,
it
is
I
you
are
longing
for.
I
am
the
Alpha
and
the
Omega,
and
yet
there
is
no
beginning
and
no
ending.
There
is
Being.
Being
is.
Love
is.
When
you
are
longing,
and
therefore
feeling
something
is
missing,
you
have
misplaced
your
attention
for
a
little
while.
Therefore,
you
experience
a
longing.
You
may
not
know
that
your
longing
is
for
Me.
You
just
feel
the
sense
of
emptiness
you
call
longing.
When
your
boyfriend
has
left
you,
no
matter
how
much
you
long
for
him
and
his
attention,
he
is
a
symbol
of
Me.
You
caught
a
fragment,
and
so
you
thought
your
beloved
was
the
Human
before
you
and
that
he
caused
your
love.
No
matter
how
much
you
thought
so,
he
never
was
paramount.
It
was
your
own
love
that
starred
all
the
time.
Beloved,
there
is
you
and
there
is
I,
our
Oneness
disguised
as
two.
There
is
no
third
either.
No
matter
how
much
you
believe
there
is,
your
love
was
attachment
to
a
fiction.
You
had
a
vision
before
you.
Now
remember
there
is
no
other.
No
matter
how
much
you
love
another,
there
is
no
another.
You
love
an
image
you
have
put
before
you.
No
matter
how
much
flesh
and
bone,
it
is
still
an
image
you
have
projected
onto
the
screen
of
your
heart.
You
have
objects
of
your
love.
This
is
wonderful.
Enjoy.
And
yet
you
need
no
object
for
your
love.
Your
love
is,
and
you
focus
it.
When
a
loved
one
leaves
your
presence
or
leaves
your
heart,
you
are
presented
with
the
splendid
opportunity
to
discover
the
ever-present
Vastness
of
your
love.
Your
love
swooped
down
for
a
moment
or
years
or
a
lifetime
and
plucked
a
personage
as
a
bird
would
pluck
a
seed,
and
yet
even
your
greatest
love
is
a
diversion,
a
place
card
for
Me.
Love
loves
love.
Love
loves
itself.
You
love
food.
A
certain
food
is
presented
to
you,
and
that
is
your
feast,
and
you
eat
it
up.
Perhaps
the
food
is
berries
from
the
field
or
a
vegetable
soup
from
your
garden.
You
say
you
love
one
food
or
another,
and
yet
what
you
really
love
is
to
eat.
And
so
you
love
to
love.
I
am
before
you,
beloveds,
and
I
serve
you
Myself
as
the
fullness
of
love
every
moment.
Your
mother
was
a
stand-in
for
My
love.
Your
husband
is.
Your
children
are.
There
is
One
Love,
and
it
is
Ours.
This
love
can
never
be
taken
from
you.
Love
stands
in
you.
It
is
like
you
paint
with
your
love.
You
put
a
daub
here
and
there.
You
pour
a
whole
can
of
love
on
one
illusion.
All
the
while,
the
paint
is
all
yours.
You
just
put
it
somewhere.
And
so
is
it
with
love.
And
yet
it
is
all
yours,
and
it
is
all
Mine,
and
love
cannot
depart.
Objects
can
vary,
but
love
is
love.
Despite
what
you
perceive,
love
does
not
wander.
It
is
extant
whatever
happens
in
the
relative
world.
Love
is
yours.
No
matter
how
much
you
give
it
away,
it
is
still
yours.
Enjoy
objects
of
your
love,
and
know
they
are
incidental.
No
matter
how
important-seeming
to
you,
they
are
incidental.
They
have
been
instrumental
in
showing
you
the
love
that
exists
within
you.
You
are
mistaken
to
believe
that
your
love
is
dependent
upon
the
good
wishes
or
presence
or
attention
to
or
from
others.
Love
is
not
dependent.
Love
is
the
Source
of
itself
and
requires
no
object.
Enjoy
the
landing
of
your
love
on
another,
yet
know
another
is
not
its
source.
You
and
I
are.
I
AM.
HEAVEN
LETTER
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