The Nature of Love

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Love is not merely air that softly blows,

nor a bird that freely in the sky flows.

It’s earth and fire, rooted deep below,

a seed that yearns to grow and show.


It’s the pulse that drums within the chest,

the burning need that won’t rest.

Not calm lotus on a tranquil pond,

but a fierce storm, a sacred bond.


Love demands a steadfast hand,

a place to grow, a firm stand.

It’s not just freedom to drift away,

but the courage to choose, to stay.


Some speak of love as a gentle breeze-

a fleeting whisper among the trees.

Yet true love bears the storm and rain,

embraces scars, endures pain.


It’s in the holding through the night,

in the silent vows, in shared fight.

Love is the oath that doesn’t sleep,

the promise made and meant to keep.


To love is to be mortal, real-

to feel the ache, to sometimes kneel.

But in that depth, in that risk,

lies the purest love, the fiercest bliss.


Others may love with wings unfurled,

floating free in a passing world.

But I choose roots, and soil, and earth-

a love that’s grounded, true, and worth.


So let us not just drift apart,

but tend the flame within the heart.

To love is to be brave and bold-

a story of flesh, of fire, of soul.

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