Love's Fragile Strength

To have lived the embrace of infatuation

as it blossomed into a harvest of emotions,
ripening to the full bounty of devotion's will,

is to know love as a sapling that splits stone—
delicate in appearance, yet stronger than the ground resisting it.

Not unlike Nature's continuance of change,
we weather seasons of inclimate passions,
holding fast the courage to withstand threats of loss.
For love drinks deeply of both sunlight and storm,
yet can suffer drought when neglected fields go untended.

The richest roots may struggle against erosion,
for love's most feared adversary is not fury, but apathy—
a silent frost that settles where warm care once flourished.

To care deeply for another requires uncommon courage:
to lower the drawbridge of the heart,
to stand unarmored beneath uncertain skies.

Love is a glass lantern carried through the wind—
fragile enough to shatter, yet strong enough to shelter flame.
Its tenderness is not weakness, but a resilient strength,
like a wildflower bending before the gale
only to rise again when the tempest has passed.

And yet…

Many seasons later, nocturnal dreams return us
to remembered gardens where affection once bloomed.
There, beneath the soil of yesterday, love remains—
never vanished, only waiting, like seeds through winter,
for another spring to awaken its quiet persistence.

Lest we forget…

Love's fragile strength is the promise of renewal itself:
the enduring faith that what was once cultivated with the heart
may yet flower again beneath kinder skies.