Love is not born in an instant,
does not sprout like a flower in the ground,
is forged in a constant embrace,
in the tender whisper of flight.
It is made with sweet and sincere words,
with promises that the heart embraces,
with small gestures, the first things,
a coffee in the morning, a look that embraces.
Deeds that speak louder than a thousand declarations,
a ‘here I am’ when the night looms,
surprises hidden on a thousand occasions,
unexpected plans, whatever the soul clings to.
A love is made with a walk under the moon,
with laughter, with tears, with light that lasts,
is a soft dance, a timely dance,
is a warm shelter, is our madness.
Emotional presents, in boxes of dreams,
with every word that is released to the wind,
our secrets are small echoes,
that beat together, in every feeling.
Love is not born, it is created in life,
is a subtle art that is painted daily,
with every ‘I love you’, every shared laugh,
we forge a bond that is never contrary.