Reckless Love
Love is not meant to tiptoe.
It runs barefoot across fields,
heart in hand,
uncertain of the stones beneath.
It risks the fall,
the bruise,
the breaking
because to hold back
would be a quieter ruin.
Yet love is not blind chaos.
It is fire with breath,
wild but not without light,
reckless only in its courage
to bloom where fear would wither.
Love should not destroy,
but it should dare.

Comments
Post a Comment