What is love?

 

Echoes of love from yonder years,

memories of joy and valleys of tears,

caress the mind of the man in the chair,

as the world passes by

while he stares at the sky.

 

His hands in his lap now old and worn,

yet once so steady, so sure, and so strong.

As if but yesterday, he remembers her hand in his,

her soft and subtle lips, their first tender kiss.

 

Like a vision of loveliness, grace, and magnificence,

she had suddenly appeared, crushing his indifference.

Love; for him just a word much abused and overly used,

though in her, all matters of the heart, visibly infused.

 

Love conquered his heart, broke his defences,

utterly smitten was he by her graces.

Befuddled, bedazzled, beguiled was he,

and as luck would have it, so was she.

 

Through the years she became his very best friend,

his lover, his teacher, until the end.

And the end came sudden, just and ordinary day,

in the blink of an eye, she was swept away.

 

At first he was numb, filled with dismay,

words escaped him, he had nothing to say.

Then he discovered with each passing day,

he still had his memories, they were there to stay.

 

Though his body was old, tired and frail,

in his heart and mind, he could still set his sails,

to sail the ocean of bygone days,

 wonderful memories still held their sway.

 

Much as we may think when we are young and strong,

love is for the young, it is to them it belongs,

only to discover as we ourselves grow old,

love is love regardless, and it cannot be controlled.

 

Love bears many gifts, and many wonders to behold,

but also pain and sorrow, if truth is to be told.

Love can be found and love can be lost,

love can be freely given, or come at a cost.

 

What love always offers,

well, so I do believe,

is a chance for transformation,

for all of us to see,

we all deserve to love

and be loved equally.

 

(Citizen Z)