What is The Colour of Love?

As I walked through the park, I randomly analysed different fallen autumn leaves in my path. They were different shades of yellow to red to brown.  Each leaf appeared to be in a seemingly different stage of life.  They endured the same elements of nature during the past year at the same time. Yet, they individually grew, thrived and withered at different rates and to different extents.  Were the yellow leaves older than the red ones or were the brown leaves the oldest?  Maybe their respective colours were indicative of their internal makeup.  How could one tell when each leaf had fallen? The basic science behind these different hues is chemistry.  As chlorophyll decreases, other chemical compounds within the leaf become more visible. Different types of trees and plants bear different levels of these chemical compounds.  However, as long as there is chlorophyll there is life, and where there is life, all the leaves are green.

Is love like chlorophyll?  Are we alive and vibrant as long as there is love within us?  What happens when the love begins to leave?  Is that when we expose our true colours?  Will we display a variety of different colours based on our inner maquillage?  And, just like the leaves, when the love is completely gone, do we cease to exist?

Is giving love more beneficial than receiving it?  One may suggest that it is not possible to give love without having received it and vice versa.  We continue to exist as we give love and receive it.  So, love is basically presented as cyclic.  It has no beginning and no end as it innately exists inside of us.  We are stuck with love.  It lives and breathes within us, in all that we do and in all that we do not do.  It dictates our choices.  It fans our emotions. It forms our destiny.

What happens when we lose our chlorophyll of love?   What colours would we turn into?  We have seen and experienced the vibrant colour of love as well as its divergent.  The leaves have no choice.  Spring gives them life, summer gives them chlorophyll, autumn takes it away and exposes them for what they really are and winter eliminates them.  We can and have been leaves.  We have lost our colour of love, showed our true colours, withered and died.  One begs the question of how did the love leave us.  Did we have a choice?

If love is inherent, with no beginning and no end, then do we have control over it?  Is love a choice? Could we choose to be filled with the colour of love 365 days of the year, come spring, summer, autumn or winter?  Are you the colour of love?