Because I Love You.

Is our soft heart to love like thought to mind?

To be as hand in hand, no sight of end.

No pain will reach they who luck find,

A love come true, as if in ancient legend.

The love is light, a breeze on the winged dove.

Spring warmth and growth  smile below unbothered.

No care to find just indulgence to love.

It’s simply free to be pastel colored.

Yet all the same this love is hard and heavy,

Like fall as cold and changing as the wind.

Once high and free now struggle by brevity,

Now choice and compromise, each day grow thinned.

Through thick or thin this love is unchanging and real:

A steady moving part, a river or wheel.