Love is like a tiny spec, in a puffed cloud,
an awakening faith with a silent vow.
It’s a paused drop of peace, that awaits a fall,
or bells from a distance that answer when called.
Love will move you inside, and make you want more,
an intrusive event that clutches your core.
It lifts you up high, so you’re floating around,
then abruptly stops, so all hopes hit the ground.
Love hurts and it burns, flows lava through your veins,
builds false illusions, to then laugh at your pain.
It flutters you quickly, to destiny’s edge,
then brings you right back with an unspoken pledge.
Love is an ember, that flickers and fades,
it is misted by rain and becomes a stain.
A destroyer of sense, that dissolves all wit,
yet all drown in desires to return to it.
Love is infinite light, felt inside the chest,
a soft soothing touch that can pass any test.
It’s the “maybe in time”, that chases each goal,
adored preservation that sprouts in all souls.
Love is felt throughout, and at times can be seen,
it’s the dark, the light, and the gray in between.
Eternally travels, through the universe,
until it lands on earth to cure all dire thirst.
– Grace Y. Estevez-Reddy