Can love contradict?
Can love be wrong?
Wrong in what sense
Can love be a song?
A jam, a tune, a slow song, a beat?
Love had moved my feet.

Will it speak to your heart?
Or is that too cliche?

Will it top off you glass,
‘till it spills on you hands?
Can it drain too quickly?
Does love run out,
like hour glass sands?
Does love leave?
Desert?
Walk out?
Can love abandon us,
like we abandon it?
Can love ever really leave us,
or give us the slip?

Does love roll over,
like unused cell phone minutes?
Or does love start anew when each day is finished?
Does love know time?
Can time sense love?
Is that why loving moments last so long?
Or perhaps they flee,
for time, like love, is objective you see.

Can love be malicious?
Or only be kind?
Does love need glasses because it’s blind?
Should love use a walker when it grows old?
Does love stand tall?
Does it do what it’s told?

Can love be found on a walk in the park?
Can it pop up through sidewalk cracks?
Be painted on a wall?
A canvas?
Is love like art?

Can love be withdrawn?
Taken aback?

Is love a fighter or meek?
Old and wise, or young and weak?
Does love take time or maybe it’s quick?
Go out like a sparkler, or burn long like a wick?
Soft as a pillow, or rough as bark?
Can love be harsh?

Will love always run smooth?
I’ll answer that, no.
But neither can love erode.

Yes, love is a healer and love loves your love.
Love loves you questions, your short comings, simple hugs.

Love is the mother that kneels,
Praying for you.
The father watching fondly,
Over everything you’ll do.
Even if it’s silly or wrong,
He’ll be amused.
But He won’t show it,
He’ll be quiet,
Because God, like love, loves to take His time.