This was a random writing. These moments of writing I love, because it’s as if I don’t even know what I’m going to write, it just happens. I think this may have been written near Valentines Day in 2019. I expect I was pondering the meaning of love and this was the result…

What is love?

I see it in the movies, I hear it in some songs
I think it’s meant to show you, there is somewhere you belong
Is it meant to be an action, words or simply felt?
Is it meant to be so powerful your heart begins to melt?

Is it soft and subtle, like summer rain against the skin?
Or is it harsh and painful making it hard to just breathe in?
Does it solve your problems, take away life’s complications?
Or does it make it harder, adding to frustrations?

Is it always light and breezy, like the first morning of each spring?
Or does it leave you bitter, like the first frost of winters sting?
Is it always shared, reciprocated by who you love?
Or do you have to settle, or send prayers to up above

Prayers of love requited as you watch “the one” move on,
Prayers of happy afters, when it feels like hatred won
Is there more than one chance, at a love that’s timeless?
Or once they’re gone, does it leave you, empty, cold and hopeless?

What if you never find it? Or find it but don’t feel it?
What if it eludes you? What if you despise it?
Are we all created, to love another’s soul?
What if we don’t know what love is, how will we ever know?

That they were always standing, right in front of us
But our blindness all these years meant we didn’t get the fuss
We didn’t see the signs, we didn’t feel a butterfly
We fought the happy feeling, didn’t allow ourselves to cry

All this time we were looking, we looked in the wrong place,
We should’ve looked at a reflection, to find loves truest face.
For love is just a feeling, it is simply a reward,
For being respected by someone, who sees through all the flaws
Maybe if I love myself, finally then I’ll see,
That there is no more important love, than the love I feel for me.