Oh humans, oh dear
Out of all the emotions
They can feel
But not describe
Is the strange,
And beautiful,
Sensation of love
It blossoms between a look
A question
A smile
It hides in the cracks and crevices of a heart
Waiting for a spark to kindle its flame
Sometimes the flame is flickering, faint
Or sometimes it is large, blazing
It is called powerful
Or called weak
It can hurt
It can heal
It can inspire peace
Or start wars
Love is,
Will always be,
A wondrous thing.