Love

Every atom,

Every creature,

We are made of it -- from it.

More substantial than music or color

Drifting through the dusk of an August evening,

More vibrant than the sunshine beaming on the river,

More everlasting and timeless than the earth itself.

Wealthier than envious Midas could ever be,

Faster than the speed of light, slower than the dying embers of a bonfire --

The reasoning behind reason itself.

The method in the madness. The needle in the haystack as well as the hay.

Constant. Metamorphic. 

Its feeds on stories read by mother,

Backyard picnics, dizzying laughter with friends.

Its habitat is the heart.

Nowhere and everywhere, unseen and obvious.

Poets tremble at the unattainability of describing its nature.

More potent and toxic than poison, more euphoric.

More beautiful than any sight ever beheld.

More essential than oxygen.