Love Is
Love is a butterfly,
Made of imperfect beauty
Needing the cuddling arms of Life
Hovering always
Over its own purity!
Love is a tree
Having birthed as a seedling,
Rooting and encrusting itself,
Growing to be an edifice
Much needed and greedily admired
For its grandiosity!
Love is a poem
Made of deep feelings
Inhabited by mysticism,
It writes of itself
It reads of itself
And speaks of itself
Knowing that its aim
Is to be so moving
As to create tidal waves
In the hearts of humankind!
Love is a river
Crystal clear and pure
Gurgling always towards the ocean
Knowing that the latter remains its home,
Even if it keeps itself focused
On what is coming ahead,
Allowing itself not to be bothered
By what is left behind in the past!
Love is intuition
As whispered it is to us
In those dreams we have
In the depth of the night
Meant to set us on our fate chosen path
So as to be allowed to be graced
Back to the state of divinity!
Love is beautiful
It happens everyday:
When the lover chooses to stick to his feelings,
Or when the wife chooses to let go of her crown
Merely to kneel in front of her husband,
Or when the maiden abides to her own strict purity
Merely to keep herself for her lover!
Why,
Love,
Is not about loving oneself,
Rather,
Love,
Is being able to forsake oneself so as
To please the other!
Love, then,
Becomes a divine sacrifice,
Which when done,
Causes stars to dance while the moon sings
All under the enraptured gaze of the Gods,
Who remain breathless
And victorious
As They know that with Love,
Existence blooms to its peak!
