They say loving does not come easy,
And that is in fact true.
We search for it in castles high
And fantasies beyond the blue.
We search for it in
The reddest rose,
In every novel, poetry and prose.
In every eye we glimpse upon;
In those soothing lyrics to that one song.
In every sweet smile and hand we hold;
In those pure little moments we’d rather leave untold.
We see it in that cozy little house on a tranquil street;
In every merry old couple we meet.
In those quiet, thoughtful things dad does for mom
Isn’t that, the kind of love we look upon?
We yearn for it
In the city’s buzz,
Or in the silence of the countryside.
While all along it awaits us,
Sitting silently by our side.
Waiting for us to see that
It’s been here all along.
It’s in spending the evening
just jamming to your favourite song,
or maybe in this poem that you find so unbearably long.
In skipping the party just to complete that book,
or sometimes just confidently sharing your outlook?
In cycling all the way up to your favourite spot in
the town, or
In reigning over your toys, wearing a crown?
It’s in knowing that you’d make it even if no one stands by your side,
May it be lighting your own fire or fighting your own fight.
It is in picking yourself up every time you fall;
in knowing that you’d be enough no matter the call.
Maybe love lies in all those parts you conceal from the world,
The ones which to you are like a blanket in the cold.
Maybe love is a creature beyond either of our help,
But maybe loving would come easy
If we only, learn to love ourselves?