Love
Love means to look at yourself
The way one looks at distant things
For you are one thing among many
And whoever sees that way heals the heart
Without knowing it, from various ills
A bird and a tree say to him: friend
Then he wants to use himself and things
So they stand in the glow of ripeness
It doesn't matter whether he knows what he serves
Who serves best doesn't always understand
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
