Controlled Love?

I’m feeling the sun come through my window while at my old teacher's desk on this cold morning. 

Humans I see outside are using caution with their steps walking or jogging in the snow.

On the other side of my apartment the moon shows itself at the same time as the sun.

I sit down to write with my coffee freshly poured and steaming over the lip of the cup, next to me. My eyes partially blinded by the warmth of the sun.

Do I Really Think 

Love Can Be Controlled?

My heart wants freedom to move as it wishes.

Instead it often (knowingly), takes a key to wind itself.

Like love is an old clock.

Trying to get the correctness. 

The minute to minute calculations.

Can love be gauged by these ministrations?

In calculated turns and careful devotion,

My heart has chosen to see love as a function.

The nature of love is locked in.

It wants its freedom.

I tell my heart

“Love’s innocence is lost in gears, weights and pendulums”.

“Love isn’t about exact functionality”.

“Love is love because it is love”.

I cautiously tell it to gaze upon the freedom it really wants.

Without fear of failure, desire of pride or recognition.

“Adorn it with nothing,” I beg.

“Stop the regulation”.

I whisper to my heart…

“Hope will sustain love.

Away from the Tick-tock.

More toward “Knock-knock, I’m home”.

(I wish I was convinced so I could confidently shout rather than whisper to my fragile heart)

"Love is Love because it is love", I sing to myself. 

My heart is more affected by my song than my words.