What Is Love, After All?

What Is This Love, After All?

One day, we all sat together,

Chatting away, light as a feather.

The question arose, pure and true—

"What is love, these two-and-a-half letters? Can you guess the clue?"

One friend spoke up with a sigh,

"Without a broken heart or tears to cry,

Without a lover turning away,

Can love truly find its way?"

Another smiled and quickly replied,

"Love is belonging, where self is denied.

Like Meera’s songs in divine trance,

Or the Gopis lost in Krishna’s dance."

The third one pondered and softly said,

"Love is a feeling, tenderly spread.

Like a gentle knock on the door,

That turns your heart pink to the core."

How could the poet stay quiet now?

She joined with a thoughtful brow—

"Love is a little boat, you see,

That sails through laughter and misery."

The warmth of the talk drew others near,

Each heart filled with love's cheer.

In the language of love, all were amazed,

Lost in the wonder, blissfully dazed.

"Love," they agreed, "is what all desire,

Yet, giving it sparks hesitation’s fire.

And so, the debate forever stays—

What is love, these two-and-a-half letters?

Guess it, if you may!"*