Answers

Love is unsuspecting.
Without condition, accepting.
Is both scared and brave.

A gentle watering, a rushing craving.

Listens to you at hours of every rising morning, and night, timelessly patient.

An immortal flower growing despite the weathering of Time, of storms, of flooding, of drought.

Are arms open, eager to touch and hold as if every chance they do is both its first and last.

Are lips worshipful of the temple that holds your spirit, your all.

It puts itself to stand by you, to watch, witness, and cherish.

So that you'd grow, grow, and grow.

Both an explosive, seething hot fuel of fireworks and a warm, safe, comforting, cozy home.

Love is a stanza, structured and sure,

and a string words, sometimes unrelated, most times illogical, brought to life out of bubbling, fumbling, dizzying feelings over feelings over feelings.

A reality of dreams and endless ambition awakened.

A movement to act, to dive into deep waters, fly into open skies, to live forward, passionately not only of the self but for every shared tomorrow building many moving castles.

A constant discovery, surprising of what it is at each leaf unfurling.

Love is unsuspecting.
Brave and wanting.


[A symbol of a snowblossom twined with a white snake is drawn at the end of the post.]

Penned by my hand on the 5th of Phaestian, in the year 920 AF.