Seasonal Love

Love. Love is like the wind. Can’t see it but you can feel it. Love is like the sea. Crashing forward and ebbing away. Or is it? It seems like the seasons. Seasons twisting and weaving into each other. Each becoming indistinguishable from the other. Love is like spring time. It’s light and airy and carefree. It’s bright and shiny and new. Sprouting from the earth and branching out towards anything it can get it hands on. Love is like summer time. It’s hot and sweaty and beats down on us. It’s long days and short nights. It’s time in between and time and a half. It’s clammy palms and shining brows. Love is the like the autumn. It’s brisk and breezy and fresh. It’s red and orange and yellow and brown. It’s the calm before the storm. Love is like the winter. It’s chilly and unpredictable. It’s harsh and risky. Each day unlike the one before. It’s constantly changing and upending itself.

Love is all there is.


One Comment Add yours

  1. Jenkins1974 says:

    Very beautifully put! (And accurately, too, for most of it, but I’m not sure about the final line though; hmmm…)

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