Love doesn’t Hurry.
No.
It is a present.
A gift.
A Now.
Love.
Takes its time...
In all that it does.
Painting each moment, with fairy dust.
It knows no destination, except the magic of now.
It sees.
Enjoys, and savors the ride.
It embellishes clouds in gold, and silver.
Present, and purposefully, it creates, and is here, with us now and forever.
Kissing each moment.
It loves itself.
It pauses to listen.
Pauses to feel.
To ponder.
To know the real.
It walks in its own garden.
To wonder.
To feel its own hum.
Then sings like a bird, the beats of its drum.
A beautiful word.
Love.
A
Dance.
A now so present.
A truth.
Our very essence.
Love.
A Touch.
A soft caress.
Embracing each part.
Here.
With tenderness.
Love, kisses your face.
Here. Love is with you. Always.
What grace.
A dewdrop, on a blade of grass.
Reflecting the world in its looking-glass.
Love flows like a stream.
It pauses to enjoy its own being.
Love smells, and savors, and feels.
Like a flower, unfolding.
Opening.
Slowly with the sun.
Pausing, softly.
It looks, with eyes, serene.
Enjoying the beauty of everything it is seeing.
Love, nature, a mountain, the sky.
It holds everything, and is the wind that helps birds fly.
Love is the dance, the color, the muse, a song, a poem, a heart,
stirred by loves views.
Love is extravagant.
Reaching far.
Painting sunsets, and rainbows, and coloring the world, lighting endless stars.
Love is the most beautiful thing you'll know.
You'll see it, with your heart's own reflective glow.
Love sees what is really true.
Love goes beyond skin, and age, and bones.
Love speaks, and life remembers is home.
Love doesn't earn itself.
Love doesn't diminished if given away.
Its isness is here, every day.
A star shining.
No hurry to gleam.
It just shines out, its wonderful beam.
Love.
A Beautiful tree.
A cooling shade.
Deep roots.
With arms open wide.
Birds, kiss it, and fly.
Muse for poets.
A steady place.
Here, love, is living grace.
A stream.
A song that waters thirsty souls.
A song that gives angles wings.
And sorrow, it consoles.
It raises us all to higher things.
It speaks, and wakes up our inner being.
Here, love whispers, its clearer seeing.
Love.
Oh, so patient.
And wise.
Love, isn't ruffled.
It sees through every disguise.
Where love is.
Union dwells.
Nothing can surpass love.
Because it is in all our cells.
So next time you feel the pull, of so many things.
And time tugs at you too move too fast, and tugs on your strings.
When your mind tries to blow you around, on windy waves.
And when mouths make too much noise.
And if the mirror doesn't show your truth, and you wish you could look like you did in your youth.
And if the lies tell if you did this or that that you'd finally be enough.
Or if you believe you would be happier if you had more stuff.
And if the people you are round, don't recognize loves sound.
And if the whole world spins too quick, and makes you jump, and hop and skip.
Remember, love is the most beautiful thing, its goodness is the song the sparrows sing.
Remember love, does not run out.
Its time is endless.
Remembering love really is what life is about.
Love its takes its time, to be .
And moves with steady rhythm.
Pausing to feel and see
To bathe in the changing tide.
Pauses to look, to hear, and know.
It sits with dandelions, to watch their feathers blow.
It savors, softly, and moves with grace, a ballerina, with butterfly lace.
Here... and there, in the now, it shines out.
Grace upon grace.
It weaves itself.
A soft candle that never goes out.
Here with all things, its iseness shines.
Writing itself, a love story, divine.
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