True Love
True love is silently enduring,
Like a bolder exposed to the rough elements,
The blistering sun beats down harshly upon it,
But it stands proudly audaciously unchanged.
Torrents of rain and snow wash over its surfaces,
Yet it remains a constant figure upon the landscape,
Howling winds may assail its naked faces,
Out of spite it stays boldly firmly affixed,
Refusing to yield to all mighty forces.
True love is flexible,
Able to bend and sway like a majestic willow tree,
Mother Nature’s graceful flowing dance partner,
Taking zephyr breezes or hurricanes in stride,
Allowing branches to be easily moved aside,
For the passage of life’s obstacles or debris,
In so bending avoids the pain of breaking.
True love must be pure,
As an undiscovered mountain stream,
Not yet polluted by human will,
Left free to follow its own course,
Determining its own pathway,
Without dams or diversions,
Thrilling spiritually refreshing.
True love should be a shelter,
A place of protection and safety,
Wherein the world is worry free,
A cave den to a hibernating bear,
Under a mother’s wing for a chick,
Sea weed for a school of hapless fish,
A dense thicket for a bunny family,
Our ultimate escape a warm hug.
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