Love comes to those who love,
who find their joy
In others' joy, their tears in others' tears.
Those in need receive the gifts that buoy
Them through the windswept yearnings of their years.
Weakness is a strength, and power none,
For none has power to compel affection.
Passion to the self-consumed may come,
But love looks for the grace of its reflection.
Love is like a tide that comes and goes,
And comes and goes according to the moon,
Giving and receiving as it flows
Between high headlands weathered and rough-hewn.
For love becomes itself the cause of love,
A double-knot not easy to remove.