“What is love?” asked the Naive,
With eyes wide, searching, open.
“Love is you,” said the Wise,
Softly, surely—
A mirror held to the heart,
A light that shines from within.
Love is not just feeling,
But presence—
A quiet knowing
That in another,
We find ourselves whole.
It’s the echo of kindness,
The steady breath
When storms rage around us,
The gentle hand
That stays
When everything else fades.
So when you ask,
“What is love?”—
Look closely,
For love is not out there—
It is you.
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