love

The sweetest love
was when we were young
now things are hardened
and the world is my heart
gnarled and wrapped around itself
like roots
like wood

the warmest nights saw you and I loving each other
agreement's rich earth tones old lovers can appreciate more
than the splash of passions florescence
endless pots of spicy soup, rich in oil
and red like my love for you
these deep and thick roots

I've learned to love it seems in the living, not the wishing
nor in the begging
and the rain falls blue
from the sweet grey sky
and the world is both aqua and marine
from the work and the sweat I've become a story without a begining or end
and love is more the warm colors of wood
than the bright lights

a green seemingly light from the inside
are the new leaves and shoots
because so many old roots it seems never die
and seedlings grow as they always have
since the first ancestors created time and wrapped it in white and called it the sun
And I'm young again having been old and tired
and love is like water
because as always
she leaves only to come again
sweet as youth