Love.....

As the first rays of dawn penetrate the darkness of my room, and I smack my lips to taste the sweet stolen kiss of the droplets of rain that trespassed through the open window, I lie on my bed pointlessly pondering over the value or vagueness of the various vignettes so verbosely associated with emotion called love.
What is Love I wonder? Is it my hormones speaking for themselves? Is it a specific region of my mind? Is it a portion of my heart who's only function I know is to beat? Or is it something beyond definition?
What creates love and what brings an end to it? Is love like energy which is bound to be conserved? Is it like a mortal and is meant to die? Or is it as per legends, eternal? Is it spontaneous or deliberate?
When did I 1st fall in love? I remember I 'loved' life even before I knew my 'love'. 'My love'! What a misnomer! Is love personal, or mutual? I 'love' my parents even before I knew how to 'love'. I 'love' my friends, even those who haven't returned it back to me. Even the person who feels I don't deserve to be 'loved', 'loves' someone. Then what is it, that makes someone deserve 'love'? Is it a prize to be earned? And then, there's this one person who makes me feel completely differently about 'love'. Is 'love' just another feeling? If so, how is it more complicated than the sum of all the others? How has it evolved from Shakespeare to Sparks?
This was all about life and the living. What about the aroma of the first breeze of dawn? What about the green of the leaves after the first showers of rain? What about silence of the hours when the world sleeps? What about the unseen bird which chirps outside my window? What about the vivid dreams of worlds far off? What of the whispers of the wind speeding past my ears? I 'love' them too.
And what is to be done with love? Is love to be felt? To be spread? To be shown? To be made? To be earned? Or just to be loved?
Can you love love? Or love to be loved? Or love to love?
Past the plethora of phenomena paired with love, the persistent perpending pursues people preposterously.
Four puny letters. What chance do they have against the brilliance of human mind? Is there anyone who can define love for me?