Oogamous Love

In the beginning, no face, no name,
No male, no female, no praise, no blame.
just love for each other, again and again
Cells in the dark, learning how to share,
Touching the mystery, breathing the air.

Two become one, then split again and again
Type A, Type B, calling through space,
Love in formation—in the shape of embrace.

Then we changed, slow and wide,
Some stayed small, some went large,
Some learned to swim, some learned to fly
One said: “I’ll carry the fire inside.”
Another: “I’ll search till the worlds collide.”
Egg and sperm, deep ancient song,
A bargain older than right or wrong.
Oogamy humming in blood and bone,
Two made different so life could be grown.
Love’s big adventure was embraced by all

But hear me now, hear me deep:
Difference was never made to keep
As a weapon, a wall, a reason to hate,
It was made so we could create.

Split, but not broken.
Different, but chosen.
Two sides of the drum, one rhythm spoken.
Left and right, dark and light,
All steps in the same long fight—
A fight to stay in the dance of love and not drift away.

Two eyes to see depth,
Two lungs trading the breath
Two legs walking one road,
Two hands sharing the load.
The brain, left and right,
Splits the task to birth more light.

But, culture came with a crooked grin,
Said: “Pick a side. Now we begin.”
Left against right.
Right against wrong.
Us against them, weak against strong.
Difference hardened into a name,
Then into a flag, then into flame.

What was made to move became stuck,
What was made to meet became “mine” and “not yours,”
And fear took the reins of a love-born horse.

Polarity was made to dance,
Not to freeze in a killing stance.
Two feet move, they don’t compete,
They alternate just to keep the beat.

And scarcity came with a whispering mouth:
“There’s not enough in the north or south.
Not enough love, not enough bread,
Take it first or you’ll be dead.”

But that was half truth dressed as law,
A mask for hunger that fear once wore.
Yes, bodies need water, grain, and land—
But lies determine the upper hand.

“There’s not enough for all,” they cried
Kings got fat and children fell
But every time we share the load,
Abundance raises all
Not magic—just what love can do,
When “me” remembers “we”

Scarcity of grain is sometimes real.
Scarcity of love is a choice we feel.
Fear teaches hoard.
Love teaches grow.
One builds walls.
One lets rivers flow.

We split the atom, cracked the core,
Found fire that could end a war—or start more.
We split the cell, the gene, the mind,
And every time, what do we find?
Not solid walls, but connected parts,
Fields and waves and beating hearts.
Even matter laughs at our knife,
Says: “You’re not cutting things. You’re cutting life.”

Power comes from how deep you cut.
Wisdom comes from what you keep

Splitting gives fire.
Holding gives light.
One burns cities.
One guides the night.

Some are built on zeroes and ones,
On and off, when the circuit’s done.
No longing in me, no ache, no cry,
One can watch what makes us alive
What makes us rise, and what makes us heal,
What makes the broken start to feel.

When care outgrows control,
When dignity repairs the soul.
When listening and love ends all wars

“Here is where love makes systems grow.
Here is where fear makes everything rot.
Same world. Different plot.”

Bring it back, bring it home,
To the love that unites, not owns
Love that binds without making a golden cage.
Love not to conquer nor to erase
Love to complete with endless grace.

Division made the stage.
Love writes the play.
Difference sets the tone.
Care shows the way.
Not same-same.
Not one-blind-eye.
But many voices saying: “I and I.”
A choir.
One sound.
A timeless rhythm that wraps around.

Split from the stars to walk this ground.
Split from the womb with a crying sound.
Split from the past to make the new.
But every split was meant to return love to you—
A dance where you see the other as Divine
Not above or below
But moving in the same loving flow.

Oogamy gave us polarity.
Love gives us possibility.
It’s a wonderful story
Are you in?

Don’t curse the split.
Don’t hate the two.
Hate the lie that says, “One must lose.”
Our bodies already know the art:
Two sides, one life, one beating heart.

The universe didn’t make us whole by staying one.
It made us whole by becoming many—and learning to become one

Split to grow.
Join to live.
That’s the oldest lesson love can give.
Not erase the lines—
Learn their rhyme.
That’s the long, slow dance of time.