Dwelling in the Fabric of Love

Love is not a visitor,  

it does not pack an overnight bag.  

It doesn’t knock softly,  

waiting to be invited in.  

Love plants itself deep,  

roots sprawling beyond what we see.  

It drapes across thresholds,  

fills the echoes in empty rooms.  

When we move into love,  

we find it is already furnished

the walls humming with presence,  

the air thick with belonging.  

Fear stands at the doorway,  

its shadow hesitant, wavering.  

Love does not entertain fear,  

there is no room for hesitation here.  

When love is fully formed,  

it carries itself with purpose,  

banishing shadows, breath by breath,  

until only light lingers.  

We live in love,  

and love lives in us.