Ron Watson

Breaking down a Translation of My Love

I love you the way a flower loves the sun,
each petal opening to praise.
I love you as moisture swells each stem. 

I love you the way dawn kisses your window, 
the way light caresses your sheets.

I love you casually, as a gentle rain falls
without making a sound. 

My love is blind, stumbling, groping in the dark. 

I love you like a schoolboy consumed 
by his first crush. 

I love you as an old man looking back 
knows well where he stands.

I love you as a human being, 
one life-breathing spirit to another, 
under the same sky, morning and night.

I love you as a whisper you long to hear. 

My love is unprofessional, amateur, 
at-risk of losing everything.

My love is complex, drawing its reason 
from the heart, where equations fail 
and passion has its way. 

I love you wildly, madly, painfully. 

And thus, I love you as a weed, as a god,
as fool, as a king, as a clown. 

It is the same in any language: my love
is everything, or it is nothing at all.

© 2013 Ron Watson

A Little Poetry

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