Families are created out of love
And live within the cup of love's large hands.
No momentary tempest can remove
Or taint the love of one who understands.
We live at times at odds with those who love us,
Colliding in our anger like great waves,
Refusing to have anyone above us
Nor willing to give up what passion craves.
But anger is a storm we know will pass,
And freedom is the nature of the will.
We run like wild horses through the grass
Yet know we are constrained by our love still.
Sometimes, obsessed with losses and with gains,
We turn towards home, where our first love remains.