The sweet love we leave at youth.
A return to heaven, to reunite with truth,
But love and heaven are not longing or filled with desire.
We love our family, we love our spouse,
And yet, in this present moment, who worships or honour’s them.
Our love is not for god and country,
We don’t confuse it with piety, patriotism or passion.
Like a gentleman, who remains alike during war or peace and calm.
Is love another name for a rose, an innermost cherished belief?
Does love work on the law of returns?
As we grow, we find feeling to express.
A kind of gratefulness to be alive.
We sprinkle it on all we give and take.
Like a magical fairy dust, we create with it.
But we don’t believe in magic.
We believe in love.