world of love

How could I not write about love

if even the wind sings its song?

if even the sky mirrors its face?

if even the rain reminds me of my tears

of feeling its comfort again?

How could I not write about love

when love is everything?

when love is free?

when I admit to myself that love is all

i really need--- to live again; to be happy again?

How could I not write about love

if it's all everything I see---

and if it is all everything that lacks?

Both overflowing and insufficient.

Both of which is troubling my heart.

How could I not write about love

when it's all I am afraid to feel?

when my heart is aching, searching

and found someone, yet still afraid

to accept the feeling?

How could I not; how could I?

when it is something I could not

understand myself?

Something that must be written,

must be told, must be asked.

Tell me how, how could I not?

When everything in this world 

revolves around love?