Loving is an Art
To love;
Is more than a word,
More than a feeling;
It is a state of being human.
It begins with longing,
Deepens through jealousy,
Takes shape in care,
And grows by guarding what is fragile within.
Love is the barest truth
A devoted heart offers to itself;
Drawn across days like a painting,
Drifting through nights like a poem.
To love;
Is every brushstroke a painter leaves upon the canvas;
It is a poet reaching the beloved’s chest
With a word kept hidden inside.
Sometimes, it is a melody
Resting quietly within a single note;
Sometimes, a glance
That warms even winter’s snow.
And love;
Is not only what has been lived,
But wha knows its place
In untouched moments of time.
It waits…
And when it arrives,
It turns the human back into human.
To love;
Is always beyond the familiar—
Not merely excitement,
But surrender;
A path,
A way of living.
Because to love;
Is to embrace a person,
A moment,
And above all,
Oneself.
Z