Letting Others Voluntarily Evolve L-O-V-E

The wind moves softly, shaping stone,  

each grain chosen by infinite patience.  

To love is letting the river carve,  

its depth not forced by our frenzy.  

Quiet, the leaf ascends on air,  

drifting, spiraling without a tether.  

Love requires yielding to that current,  

to trust the shape of its motion.  

The bird does not teach the sky,  

nor bind the stars to its flight.  

Let others turn their arcs unseen,  

a dance outside your mirrored grasp.  

We are circles, spirals, unbound tides.  

Each pulse resonates within the unknown.  

To love: to witness becoming without boundary,  

to hold with hands that do not close.