At some point
I think I have realized
that romantic love
is mostly bullshit.
my time on the mountain
has soured my force-fed expectations
on what love ought to be
but the more time I spend
among the trees and streams
the more I realize that there are
ways to love one another.
Far deeper,
I have spent so long
simply existing
in the wilds
and becoming a part of it
that my love for nature
and Her creatures
has almost augmented
the way I see others.
Looking upon her
is as serene
and effortless
as watching the setting sun
in all its golden glory
fade behind the purples and blues
of a shadow-soaked mountaintop.
You cannot change it
or control it,
nor will showering it with gifts
enrich the experience.
It simply exists
and the only way
to truly show
that you love her
is to strip away
what we were told to expect
and experience her
for what she is.
To see
that even here,
in a small coffee shop
in some small town,
can one watch a mountaintop sunset
every time
she takes a sip.


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