Love, what is it?
People have contemplated it for centuries.
It's been defined in hundreds of ways.
Poets have written sonnets, ballads, odes, and epics
to this ruler, this monarch of all emotions, this queen of hearts.
I'll tell you what it's not:
It's not those silly little butterflies that flutter around inside your tummy.
It's not the latest celebrity everybody's crushing on
and it's definitely not that vampire kid.
It shouldn't be about fame
It shouldn't be about money
It shouldn't be about vanity
It is not some kind of status symbol.
Love will not make you deceive yourself.
Love will not make you injure anyone.
Love will not force you to poison yourself.
Love will not insult your virtues.
Love will not demand the unthinkable.
Love is much kinder than that.
What is love, then?
Love is when everything matters and nothing does.
Love is when everything you do is for honor.
Love doesn't change in a season or two.
Love is a constant thing
it's always there
when you are sick
when you are old
when you are sad
when there is nothing left
There should, at least, be love...
Love is beside your bed when you are sick.
Love isn't written in paper,
and words can't really contain love.
Love is going without something
so the ones you love can have.
Love is holding on to every precious moment.
Love doesn't cost a thing but there's nothing more valuable.
Love is the gravity that holds families together.
Love reaches inside of us and compels us to feed those that don't have.
Love is what inspires someone to keep working until they find a cure for that illness.
And love is ultimately the only thing that could ever save this world.





Comments: 2
And then you come up with this poem that truly gives me pause.
A delight.