As we live, we are transmitters of life. <br />And when we fail to transmit life, life fails to flow through us. <br /> <br />That is part of the mystery of sex, it is a flow onwards. <br />Sexless people transmit nothing. <br /> <br />And if, as we work, we can transmit life into our work, <br />life, still more life, rushes into us to compensate, to be ready <br />and we ripple with life through the days. <br /> <br />Even if it is a woman making an apple dumpling, or a man a stool, <br />if life goes into the pudding, good is the pudding <br />good is the stool, <br />content is the woman, with fresh life rippling in to her, <br />content is the man. <br /> <br />Give, and it shall be given unto you <br />is still the truth about life. <br />But giving life is not so easy. <br />It doesn't mean handing it out to some mean fool, or letting the living dead eat you up. <br />It means kindling the life-quality where it was not, <br />even if it's only in the whiteness of a washed pocket-handkerchief.<br /><br />David Herbert Lawrence<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/we-are-transmitters-2/
