|
LOVE MAY SPRING UP like a thief
in the night,
Or enfold you unnoticed, like dawn's gentle light;
It arrives with fiery passions, or brings joy on a breeze-
Like each sunflower turns to the sun,
Every love rises wondrous, each second to none.
Love may run steady, with the
river's delight,
Or flutter through raptures, like crystalline light;
It may mellow with the seasons, or gain grace through the years,
Much as time tints the sense of a prayer . . .
Those who try to define it are mining the air.
Yet even as love sweeps us up
on its crest,
It must not be presumed, nor held tight to the chest.
It still requires tending, open words, loving care,
A commitment you share,
As a fire that's eternally bright
Must be fostered and fueled to burn on through the night.
Sure, love is a crystal, a river,
a prayer,
And some will claim true love is fleeting and rare . .
.
But when harvested from friendship, from bonds tested and true,
Like a seed in good soil, how it thrives,
And it blooms, and sustains us the rest of our lives.
|
|
