What Love Means to Me
Love is the sunrise, golden and warm,
A beacon of calm amidst life's storms.
A hand to hold when skies turn grey,
A gentle guide to light the way.
Love is the rhythm of hearts in sync,
A bond unspoken, a fragile link.
It’s found in silence, in whispered tone,
In knowing eyes that feel like home.
Love is the roots of an ancient tree,
Anchoring souls, steadfast and free.
It grows in shadows, in light, in rain,
Through droughts of sorrow, through floods of pain.
Love is the rhythm of the ocean’s tide,
A force unseen, yet impossible to hide.
It carves through stone, reshapes the shore,
Its depth unknown, its presence lore.
Love is forgiving, a balm for the heart,
The glue that keeps broken pieces apart.
It mends and heals, though scarred and torn,
Transforming hurts where hope is reborn.
Love is the quiet in a restless night,
The star that gleams with enduring light.
Though distant it seems, or cloaked in despair,
It’s an eternal truth, always there.
Love is a story, penned unseen,
A tapestry woven with threads serene.
From joy and grief, it weaves its art,
The soul of existence, the core of the heart.
This is love, as vast as the sea,
A life’s devotion, a precious decree.
Through time and space, through mystery’s plea,
This is what love will always be.
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