It is just another Saturday afternoon, in the park.
Draw closer and listen in on this quiet conversation, between two elderly, gray-haired gentlemen sitting on the beach, by the water. One of them men is a distinguished love poet; the other is an aspiring writer.
(Go ahead and eavesdrop for a while and then you decide whether a love poet is actually a philanthropist at heart or not.)
Pierre: “They say that poets are peculiar people. I heard someone call you a philanthropist? Is that true?”
Paul: “Someone accused me of being a philanthropist?”
Pierre: “Yes. Well, are you or not?”
Paul: “What a weird question to ask me, of all people! I am only a love poet.”
Pierre: “Does philanthropy ever enter into the realm of your love poetry? That would make you a philanthropist-love poet.”
Paul: “A philanthropist loves to give away money for good causes or the betterment of humankind, right? I have never heard anyone call a love poet, a philanthropist before.”
Pierre: “You could be both a love poet and a philanthropist?”
Paul: “Maybe, I don’t know. Money never enters into the picture, when I write my love poetry. I never write love poetry for money, as when I try to do that, I wind up getting extremely frustrated. I just want to rip it all up or toss it right out the window.”
Pierre: “What happens if you write love poetry for love?”
Paul: “You mean just writing love poetry, just for the sake of love? That is a rather unusual question to ask a love poet too, wouldn’t you agree?”
Pierre: “Well, I don’t know about that! I usually tend to ask people unusual questions at times. I am just curious by nature. That is my aspiring writer’s overly-active, inquisitive mind at work. I apologize.”
Paul: “I guess that it all depends on what you see as love or how you perceive love. If I write love poetry for love or for love’s sake, regarding love as purely an abstract concept, it flows easily for me.”
Pierre: “Like a brook on a hot and lazy, summer day.”
Paul: “Right! Writing love poetry for love or love’s sake is like a meandering brook, with no place to go and no hurry to get there, either. If I write love poetry, because I love to write love poetry, somehow it flows like endless river.”
Pierre: “What happens when you write love poetry, purely about love?”
Paul: “About love? Then it suddenly takes off like a raging torrent.”
Pierre: “What happens when you try to write poetry about money?
Paul: “You know love poets don’t make much money. By the way, I hate money. Maybe that is why they think I am a philanthropist?”
Pierre: “Most writers don’t make much money either. I worry about that sometimes.”
Paul: “Well, let’s see. If I try to write love poetry about money, I get really frustrated and depressed. Then I start to think about all of the money, that I don’t have! When that happens, I cannot write love poetry at all. It is like a mental block for me.”
Pierre: “Really? I should remember that. Maybe that would apply to my writing world, as well?”
Paul: “Is writing love poetry really about love or money? Or is it about the love of love or the love of money?”
Pierre: “Or about making money?”
Paul: “The way I see it, the realm of love and the realm of money are totally separate worlds. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Pierre: “Yes, I would think so.
Paul: “They say that the love of money is the root of all evil.”
Pierre: “I know. That is a quote from the Bible.”
Paul: “The love of love would be in an entirely different realm than the love of money, wouldn’t you say?”
Pierre: “Actually, that would appear to be correct too.”
Paul: “It also says that God is Love and that you cannot serve both God and Mammon, or money.”
Pierre: “That’s from the Bible too.”
Paul: “I guess we really do have to make a choice about who or what we serve then, don’t we?”
Pierre: “It would certainly seem that way.”
Paul: “It would be better to serve love than mammon.”
Pierre: “Then your stream flows, right?”
Paul: “Right. When you have a stream of love poetry, it is easy to give some away. When you have a river of love poetry, you can give more away. When you have a raging torrent of love poetry, you can give it all away.”
Pierre: “That certainly beats throwing it away.”
Paul: “As a love poet, with a raging torrent of love poetry flowing, as fast as you give it away, you get some more to give away.”
Pierre: “You are saying that you will get more and more love poetry to give away, as long as the river keeps on flowing. Maybe money blocks that river?”
Paul: “Could be. Maybe I am a philanthropist, after all. Maybe all love poets are philanthropists, at heart too, but what they give away is love poetry, probably not too much money.”
Pierre: “What about writers?
Paul: “Are you a writer-philanthropist at heart?”
Pierre: “I’ll have to think about it for a while. Maybe I should become one?”
With that, both gentlemen got up and walked away. (Too bad we couldn’t hear the rest of this conversation. It was just starting to get interesting.)
