Love for the gate that rattles at night because a warm breeze has dried the wood and shrunk it down. Not love because the gate tells the night that man is here and the sound tells man that drier, warmer weather has come to this place. Not love for these reasons.
Love for the sun that shines in my face as I walk the path with squinted eyes, head held back and fingers tucked away. Not love because the sun sings of easing chill from the air, warming my face and drying these eyes. Not love for these reasons.
Love for the birds that coo in the morn to tell their tales of ache and yearn. Not love because we share this space with gentle beings that lull with songs and flutter and swoop to say that life goes on. Not love for these reasons.
Love for the buzz and slash of life. Love for the jagged edge we cut against. Love for the crash and rush of breaking. Not because they teach us all how to move and grow. Not love for any reason except to say that love is love; and love is always good. So just love me, love you and love always.