The dew that forms on spring grass.
The sun rays that shine through summer windows.
The crisp leaves that blow through autumn winds.
The snow flurries that illuminate the wintery chills.

These are the most common poetic topics...
But why?

The face of poetry is abstract and unseen.
Its mask shifts and changes into ideas of understanding,
Depending on the listener...

The beauty of nature has effortless expression
It practically writes for itself.

But the fire of Love is another matter.
"Bye, love you!" "I love that!" "C'mon love."
The name appears more often than necessary,
But is it truly understood, like nature?

It seems my generation has forgotten Love's definition.
"Love: an intense feeling of deep affection."

I don't love my cereal, I love my mom's caring personality.
I don't love my car, I love my dad's willingness to trust.
I don't love my tickets to Disney, I love my younger brother's sense of fun.
I don't love my toothbrush, I love my eldest brother's teaching disposition.

Love is a part of nature, it's true,
But it is not meant to be taken as lightly.

Nature is easily seen through our widening pupils,
Every move it makes is impossible to go unnoticed.
Love's invisibility is easy to let slip by,
You have to look closely to find it.

True Love is never found in objects.
True Love is found in families of all different seasons.