So What Is Love

So what is Love, I asked the rose

Blood red amidst the winter snows,

Held close last night but now disposed,

Another lies in the bedclothes,

New audience for brand new pose;

And this is Love, as I suppose.

This is Love, the scorpion said

The lessons learned from roads we tread

The ache that comes from things unsaid,

The careful weaving of the thread;

That may yet bind us ‘til we’re dead;

So this is Love, within his head.

So what is Love, I asked the crow

Bright eyed, sun sharp, as the wind blows,

Flying still higher for she knows,

The prize unto the best will go,

Whether the lover does or no;

And this is Love, as I now trow.

This is love, said the black and gold

It is the heat, it is the cold,

It makes us fear, it makes us bold,

It is the loyalty that holds,

It’s what you will return twofold;

Yet most of it will go untold.

Now what is Love, I do not know,

A thing that changes, to and fro,

A thing for one, a thing for moe,

It’s the wind, the sun, the undertow;

So if you love, those dice you throw,

And gamble on your tomorrow.

~ Ranae