What is Love?

Love isn’t easy to explain,
Especially not with just your brain.
You cannot put it in your hand;
It will not fill your shoes like sand,
You cannot taste it like a plum,
Or chew it like a piece of gum.
You cannot put it on your head;
It doesn’t fit under your bed.
You cannot smell it like a leek,
Or hear it like a bubbling creek.
It makes you warm but has no heat,
No taste but can be bittersweet.
Your nose and tongue, your eyes and ears,
Will have no kindly souvenirs.
It has no rhyme; it makes no sense.
It does not sit upon a fence.
It does not walk, but it can fly;
It does not breathe, but it can die.
It’s not for sale but can be bought
(Though oftentimes it’s all for naught).
Not high and low nor near and far,
Not in a cup nor in a jar,
Like magic, it can somehow heal –
Perhaps the only thing that’s real.